


A Song For The Past

by Lady_Rubik



Series: Our Song: Broken But Melodious [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: "Language" Joke, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Endgame Fix-It, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Stephen Strange, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Stephen Strange, Intersex, M/M, Magic, Medical Inaccuracies, Memories, Mpreg, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov Lives, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PLEASE HEED TAGS, POV Stephen Strange, Parent Stephen Strange, Past Relationship(s), Pepper Potts & Wong Friendship, Post Mpreg, Protective Steve Rogers, Relationship Issues, Relationship(s), Sentient Infinity Stones (Marvel), Snarky Natasha Romanoff, Stephen Strange & Natasha Friendship, Stephen Strange & Wong Friendship, Tags May Change, Tony Stark Lives, Uncle Wong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27127474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Rubik/pseuds/Lady_Rubik
Summary: Stephen couldn't do it.He couldn't let Tony die. His heart wouldn't allow him to. Watching the man's life drain from his face as his son figure sobs and wife kneels right in front of him, Stephen's own heart cries out. This was how it was supposed to be, and yet, his body is moving before he realizes it.The Time Stone levitates over his scarred hands and focusing his broken hearted spirits to muster every bit of energy left in him, Stephen activates the Stone to save Tony's life./////Summary to be updated soon!
Relationships: Pepper Potts & Wong, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Stephen Strange & Wong, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Our Song: Broken But Melodious [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980052
Comments: 30
Kudos: 97





	1. The Music Must Continue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first story on this account! This is more of an Endgame completely take apart and reconstruct it in a shitty way because yeah...that's how I cope. This is un-beta'd, and I am looking for a Beta so please do feel free to let me know. Constructive criticism, kudos and comments in general are also appreciated!
> 
> Please heed tags for anything you may not like! I won't spoil but this is your chance to turn back now. And I am still improving my writing skills so characters might be ooc for a while-ish. I'm trying to work on it. 
> 
> I did research hard on this story so do enjoy! (Except for rewatching Endgame. God no, I cannot do it. So I only read the Wiki and articles.) 
> 
> I have messed the timeline up a bit. During Civil War is when Stephen has the accident and becomes a student under the Ancient One. It says on the official wiki that Wong was apart of the Snapped but I changed that too. Other than that, there might be some timeline mistakes but oh well. Enjoy!

"Stephen,”

Numbness echoes through the Supreme Sorcerer as he stares ahead at the wall, hands clasped over his mouth in thought. They’re trembling as they always are; the slight movements are felt against his lips. Pain doesn’t strike them as strong today, but there are good days and bad days. His name is called again, but there is no response once more as Stephen actively ignores it. It’s only when a hand lands on his shoulder is he forced to break out of his thoughts.

“Stephen…”

“How is he?”

Wong pauses, mulling over the question with a pinched face. The stretched silence doesn’t do well for Stephen’s nerves, and Wong can see that. “Fine.” He answers to pacify the man, who visibly relaxes if the slump of his shoulders is anything to go by. “Better. Mrs. Stark has asked to see you.”

“No need.” Stephen replies, bristling at the thought of it. He had no qualms about seeing the kind hearted women, but it would be better if he didn’t. “I’m sure she has more on her plate than to deal with me.” He shrugs Wong’s hand off to stand and walk towards the window. The city of New York is definitely familiar, but it feels different now. Stephen didn’t quite like it.

“I don’t think it’s a choice.”

“Don’t think I asked if it was.”

“Stephen, she wants to speak with you.” Wong steps closer but still gives the other his space, blank yet concerned expression moving from Stephen’s back and towards the window as well. Silence befalls the two once more with Wong’s gaze occasionally flitting over to his friend as he awaits an answer. Or just anything.

A sigh is all Wong receives as Stephen bows his head, defeated. A few, unshed tears threaten to slip from his eyes but he keeps his voice steady - an incredible feat on its own. “I can’t.” He whispers. “And you know that.” There’s a slight waver at the end of the sentence, but he doesn’t let the tears flow. He couldn’t.

Wong doesn’t respond, but Stephen can feel the frustration coming off the man in waves. Still, he doesn’t acknowledge it or give any indication that he was going to relent. Stephen crosses his arms, trapping his hands gently under his biceps and clenching his jaw in a newborn agitation. Wong must sense this because the man gives a smaller sigh.

“When will you at least get out of this Sanctum then? The world is patching itself and yet here you are, continuing to wilt away willingly. You have a son, Stephen-”

“I didn’t forget.”

“I’m not saying you have but at this rate, it’s the same as the past five years! You haven’t eaten! You haven’t slept! God, you haven’t even showered and it’s been a week. Stephen, please. The others are healing, but the only person who isn’t yet is you.” Wong lectures at the Sorcerer Supreme, ignoring the way he flinches as his voice raised. Stephen lets out a small choked sob but doesn’t let anything else slip through, shoulders shaking from the onset of crying.

The silence stretches out, before Stephen takes a shaky inhale. “Five years.” He drops his hands, letting them hang useless by his sides. “I missed five years of his life, Wong. Five years I’ll never get back.” More tears fall, and at this point Wong can see them but he doesn’t focus on it.

“No, you can’t.”

It hurts even more to hear the truth as a hot knife drives through Stephen’s chest.

“So then make these next years count.” Wong continues, moving to grab his friend by the shoulders and turn Stephen to face him. “He still knows you as dad, and he still loves you. I never let him forget that you loved him to the ends of eternity and that you fought for him.” He squeezes Stephen’s shoulders, shaking him a little bit for the other man to finally look at him. “Don’t you believe me?”

Stephen huffs, raising his hand to wipe away a few of his tears. “I know. And I do. I can’t thank you enough for being there for him when I couldn’t.” He gives Wong a small smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes to which Wong deeply sighs.

“You were a part of the Snapped. It was out of your control.”

“It was the only way.”

“And the world is truly grateful.”

“Not all the world.”

Wong pulls back his hands from Stephen’s shoulders, giving Stephen a confused look. “What is that supposed to mean?” He asks with confusion and supescion lacing his voice.

Stephen only shoots him a tired glare, turning back to the window. He doesn’t immediately answer, bitterness stirring around in his chest. Bitterness at what? He doesn’t exactly know.

“Stephen, what do you mean?”

“I don’t know!” Stephen blurts out, sudden outburst not surprising Wong as he turns to glare at him. “I don’t know, Wong! It’s been five years and everything is different. It wasn’t…” He trails off, cursing under his breath and running his hands over his face. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Wong is quiet, and Stephen takes that as cue to continue. “This is...this is the timeline where we win but it wasn’t supposed to go like this. Stark was supposed to die.” Stephen admits as tears run down his cheeks once more, quicker. He sucks in a sharp breath, turning away from Wong. “He was supposed to die, be free from this world and all the fighting and suffering and just… He was supposed to die. I fucked up. He wasn’t supposed to live. It was supposed to be his final sacrifice…”

Wong opens his mouth to reply but Stephen cuts him off, hissing out. “And I was so...selfish that I kept him here. All his years of suffering and he. . .”

Stephen freely cries now, near silent sobbing echoing throughout the room as Wong processes that information. However, he can’t respond to it as a small voice appears.

“Daddy?”

Both gazes snap over to the door where the small Eddie is clutching his blanket in the door. “Why are you crying?” The five year old asks as he rushes forward to barrel himself into Stephen’s long legs. “Are you hurt? Did you have a bad dream??”

“Eddie, why are you up?” Wong demands, as Stephen bends down to scoop his hands under his son’s armpits in order to pick him up and settle the boy on his hip. “It is past your bedtime.” He lightly scolds his nephew who pouts and holds his blanket to his chest while the other arm wraps around Stephen’s neck.

“I couldn’t sleep!” Eddie half whines. “‘s too dark and lonely. Wanted to sleep with daddy.”

The edge of Wong’s lip twitches as he and Stephen catch each other’s eye over the boy’s curly chocolate brown hair. The boy refused to sleep anywhere else but with Stephen ever since he returned, and Wong had just broken the boy’s long going streak of being able to sleep on his own before the Snapped return.

Eddie didn’t get many nightmares but when he did, they were all about that day when he was a baby. Eddie was handed to Christine before it all happened. She was one of the unlucky billions who were dusted. Before she did, the car crashed with Eddie trapped in the car seat even as the rest of the world began to fall apart outside of it.

Wong found him after the whole ordeal several hours later, both thanking and cursing whatever god for the predicament. The infant didn’t understand anything, but the impact of the crash and the way his Aunt Christine disappeared was enough to leave lasting damage.

Wong had no problem with it, of course, because he understood but both the two needed to be asleep right now. He crosses his arms and searches Stephen’s eyes for answers to their interrupted conversation, but the other man broke the contact first, pressing a kiss into his son’s hair.

“You should be asleep, Eddie.”

“You both should be asleep.” Wong corrects, raising his eyebrow challengingly when Stephen gives him a weak glare. “Your father is crying because he hasn’t slept in three days like you do when you miss a nap.”

“I sleep. It’s just periodically,” Stephen argues with a roll of his eyes.

“The bags under your eyes beg to differ.”

Eddie, the ever meticulous child, pulls his head off Stephen’s shoulder to look up at Stephen’s face. His eyebrows are pulled together in concentration as his eyes search through the partial darkness until his hand comes up to feel under Stephen’s eyes. He’s smart, observant, a trait he takes from both sides of his parentage. “Why?” He finally asks, not fully understanding. Wong answers for Stephen, however.

“I told you, Eddie. It’ll take a while for those who disappeared to readjust.”

The boy sticks out his bottom lip in a pout but Wong gives him his own challenging look, not giving another answer until Eddie huffs and settles his head back onto Stephen’s shoulder. The Sorcerer Supreme slightly tightens his hold on his son, feeling as if Wong were the parent and not him. It made sense - Eddie did grow up from an infant under Wong’s supervision.

The mentioned man spots Stephen’s conflicted expression, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “Eddie, why don’t you go up to bed?”

“No, I don’t wanna sleep alone!”

“Stephen will be right up with you. But little boys need sleep or they’ll be cranky in the morning.” Wong’s tone gives no room for argument. Eddie looks up at Stephen with a pleading look and the taller man nods to affirm his friend’s statement.

“Promise, bud. Just five minutes.”

Stephen sets Eddie back on his feet, ignoring the sharp ache in his hands and heart at Eddie’s dejected look, but he complies, holding his blanket to his chest and walking back out. Neither say a word until Wong clears his throat, pulling Stephen’s attention to him.

“Are you still…?” Wong trails off, moving his hand to gesture to the rest of the sentence. The other gets it, however, giving a bitter laugh.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if I’m not. Went through a lot… Five years practically dead and not to mention what happened on the spaceship and then Titan.” Stephen looks down, feeling a new stinging onslaught of tears. He fights back the urge to cry, looking back up to Wong’s neutral expression. It angers him, but it shouldn’t.

“Have you even checked?”

“There’s no need.” Stephen moves to walk out the door but his arm is caught by Wong, whose face is now portraying his worry.

“Stephen. Please. Don’t let whatever’s going on consume you.” He tightens his hold on the Supreme Sorcerer’s arm when he feels the other try and pull away. “I mean it. Check for yourself and peace of mind, then go talk to Mrs. Stark. Get out of here. Even if you still...are, after all of what’s happened, not taking care of yourself will do it for you.” Wong lets go, allowing for his words to sink into Stephen. “Check on the man you saved.”

“How did I save him when I only allowed for him to continue suffering?”

“He has a wife and a daughter that need him just as your son needs you. You saved his life.”

Stephen hesitates, looking off to the wall once more. “Of course.”

Wong is quiet, but it’s enough for Stephen who moves out of the room and leaves the man to his own thoughts. Yes, the rest of the world was just barely coming together and most were moving on as he saw through the Time Stone. Some have remarried only for their previous spouses to come back, burials have been made, suicides have left the ones who returned hopeless, and it just hasn’t been the same.

Stephen couldn’t move on. Not yet. He wouldn’t be able to move on if he let Stark die. Moving on was a process that he just wasn’t willing to commit to yet. And it’s ironic that the keeper of the Time Stone is so hung up on the past and what once was. He wasn’t ready to accept that- had dreaded that it was the only way.

And Stark had been so ready to die. His eyes told it all. Stephen remembered clearly from the battlefield.

He was willing to leave behind his wife, daughter, friends, and protégé for billions. He would lay down his life and the world would’ve moved on.

As Stephen slowly climbs the stairs on his way to his bedroom, his inner voice chastises him for his selfishness - for wanting to keep a man who had a chance at rest to keep going. Stephen wanted to prevent him from moving on. It’s incredibly selfish and even more so risky to last second risk his own life to save Stark’s.

He remembers vividly ripping the Time Stone out of the makeshift gauntlet and reversing Tony’s body for a split second while shedding some of his own life to the other with a spare spell. He couldn’t undo the damage done by the Stones but gave Stark enough strength to be able to fight just on the brink of death. The others had never moved faster to get him to the nearest hospital. And Pepper’s face - She was confused, scared and hopeful all at the same time. Stephen had heard her tell her husband who has suffered for years to rest finally and god, he only ruined it.

Stephen couldn’t bear facing her after that day. He hadn’t faced any of the others, immediately heading home and not being able to stop crying at the sight of his son - a carbon copy of the mangled face he just saw hours earlier but innocent and blissful ignorance. He wasn’t a baby anymore but a young child now.

His body is moving automatically into his bedroom as he’s lost in his own thoughts. It’s empty, so Eddie must’ve gone into his own room for now which is good because Stephen needs to shower.

His hands have a slight sting to them now as he gathers some fresh clothes and moves into the bathroom to take a quick wash off. He remembers seeing a funeral in that timeline that would’ve been and Pepper placing Tony’s Arc Reactor in the lake for its finally resting place. It shouldn’t make him mourn because it didn’t happen, but yet he’s feeling a new wave of sadness as he undresses slowly.

The shower feels akin to hot needles when he turns the temperature all the way up- of course it does - but it also doesn’t do so well for his hands. Stephen doesn’t care. He needs the feeling. Anything other than numbness. Maybe this was the Universe’s way of punishing him. He’d give anything, but he couldn’t leave his boy behind. Not again.

Stephen stands under the hot stream for a few minutes before slowly washing himself and his hair then rinsing off and quickly getting out. Wong was right and he did need sleep as his body is exhausted from the very thrown off sleeping schedule he endured ever since he returned.

It doesn’t take long to dress especially since Stephen pointedly avoids his reflection in the fogged mirror. Even then, he can make out the bags under his eyes and frown etched onto his face. Maybe this truly was his punishment. Stephen exits the bathroom after brushing his teeth and admittedly, he did feel fresher but even more tired.

A small lump on his bed causes him to pause and two big brown eyes peek out from under the cover greet him.

“Uncle Wong said that I could sleep in your bed t’night…” Eddie sheepishly admits, but Stephen wasn’t concerned about that even if Wong did voluntarily give up his room.

He moves to slip under the covers, feeling Eddie scoot over to curl into his side. He’s on the smaller side for a five year old, but Stephen wasn’t concerned, happy to be near his baby boy.

It’s so quiet and still that Stephen almost falls asleep if it weren’t Eddie moving and placing a socked foot on his chest.

“Daddy, why were you crying earlier?” Eddie asks in a hushed voice - well, a badly hushed tone that Stephen could clearly hear and he tenses up, wondering how a small child could remember his question and bring it up in such a time. “Are you hurt on the outside?”

Stephen shakes his head against the pillow, fully aware of his son’s big eyes on his face. “No, buddy. I’m not hurt.”

“Are you sad? Last week, I dropped my LEGO set and it broke apart and I was super sad and I cried for a long time.” Eddie rambles, moving closer to tuck himself under Stephen’s arm. Even as a baby, he babbled nonsense like there was no tomorrow and the resemblance hurts Stephen even more. “Is it cause you were sleeping for a super long time? Cause your hands hurt?”

“You are such a curious little thing.” Stephen notes, and Eddie beams with a small giggle.

“Uncle Wong says I get it from you!”

“What else did he say you got from me?”

“We both are know-it-alls.”

“I am older and wiser. Bet you don’t know as much as me.”

Eddie levels a glare up at Stephen, cheeks puffed out in frustration. “I do know stuff! Miss Humphrey said that I’m the most smartest boy in her class. I got a golden star for spelling out my full name and I aced my math quiz!” He announces proudly, sitting up now that he was too hyper to even consider sleep. Stephen gives a small smile, adjusting his position to look up at the boy.

“Oh really? So what’s ten times ten?”

“100.”

“So then you do know it all.” Stephen decides to enlighten his son, who grins in satisfaction and bounces up and down. “My boy is the smartest in the whole word. I am terribly sorry I doubted you, my Eddie Bear.” And really, Stephen shouldn’t be inflating a child’s ego so late in the night but he couldn’t help it at this point.

Eddie smiles for a second before his face falls into a small frown. “Wait...you distracted me! Daddy, you didn’t tell me why you were crying!” He crosses his arms, giving Stephen his best “Wong is disappointed in you” look and wow, it is freakish how much he’s got it down packed. “But if ‘s grown ‘dult stuff then I get it, but if you don’t wanna talk about it then you don’t gotta keep a s’cret..” His mood turns sour, dropping his arms and fiddling with a crease in the sheets. It concerns Stephen as he sits up as well, giving Eddie a sad look.

“Why do you think it’s a secret?” Stephen asks, moving to lift the boy’s head up and give him a questioning look.

Eddie continues fiddling with the sheets, giving Stephen a pout. “Uncle Wong said it’s better to talk about why when I’m super sad...but daddy is super sad but doesn’t wanna say why and I can’t help you.”

It’s enough to bring tears to Stephen’s eyes once more and god, he is so emotional. The sorcerer moves forward to wrap his arms around Eddie and pull him into his embrace, kissing the top of his head. Stephen was in love with the boy’s curls. It reminded him of his own youth.

“It means so much to me that you care, buddy. You have no idea how much I missed you when I was sleeping for five years. I had dreams that I’d return and wrap you up in a blanket and cuddle you until you begged me to stop.” Stephen squeezes Eddie tighter, pretending to trap Eddie as he manages to pull a little giggle out of the boy. “And yet...sometimes, there will be adult things that we can’t share but… Uncle Wong is right. It’s better to talk about what makes you sad instead of piling it up.”

And Stephen is truly happy that Wong taught his son well in his absence. He begins to run his hand through Eddie’s soft hair, looking out of the moonlit window. “You don’t have to worry about why I was sad earlier, because now that I’ve got my favorite person in the entire Universe here I can be happy.”

It’s not enough for a boy whose curiosity could only ever be solved by true answers, but he takes it in substitute. Silence befalls the pair and Stephen lays them back down, pulling the blanket back over them with his free hand not cradling Eddie.

The stillness of the room lulls Eddie to sleep easily combined with Stephen’s body heat and the comfort of his arms. His little breathing evens out in just two minutes, leaving Stephen to hold him close and ponder upon himself.

Wong was right...once more. He continued to waste away while everyone was patching up and healing. Stark seemed to be recovering in the hospital from his final battle told from Wong’s daily updates and was with his family. Everyone was accounted for and went home to rest, except of course the Black Widow. She is the only one that Stephen hasn’t heard any update for and he knew why.

He’s sure that Barton has told everyone of her sacrifice. One that would’ve been followed by Stark shortly in order to save the universe. Stephen saw it all beforehand. Was it selfish to save Stark and leave her to rest? Her sacrifice had not been in vain, because they won. But Stephen had already messed with the timeline.

Maybe he hadn’t allowed Stark to continue suffering. He gave him a chance to continue living and to see his baby girl grow up. After all, Stark had gambled his happy life and family for the rest of the universe. They both had.

It was hard to move on sometimes, and especially with all that’s happened. To let go of the past and find a new song proved near impossible at some moments. But maybe he could give others the chance to move on without him. Eddie would be fine without him and continue to grow up under Wong. During his second day of return, Eddie had shown Stephen some magic Wong taught him. Maybe someday, he’d become Sorcerer Supreme just like his father. He’d move on.

Stephen opens his eyes, which he didn’t even know slipped shut, when he feels a socked foot on his face. He moves back to see Eddie lightly snoring in a position he didn’t quite think was possible. Another thing he inherited: being a restless sleeper.

He sits up, moving Eddie into a better position under the blanket, and looks over at the clock. 2 am. Stephen wasn’t tired anymore and this is what he meant when he meant “periodically”. Take that, Wong.

The brunet carefully moves out of the bed and tucks the blankets in to prevent Eddie from rolling out even if it was possible. He’s grabbing the Eye of Agamotto off the back of a nearby chair and walking out the room before he can process it, soundlessly navigating the halls.

They’d move on. They all would. Stephen’s name would be just a faint whisper on the wind when this was over.

And maybe he was selfish for doing this one thing, but he’d make it right. The Universe would be right once more.

Slipping past Wong’s room was easy, as the man was snoring like there was no tomorrow. In and out, as Stephen heads downstairs and grabs a sling ring off the table. He knew his destination and after this, they all would move on.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers to himself - to his clueless son dreaming away without a care in the world. Maybe one day he’d forgive Stephen.

Was he thinking clearly? Was this a good idea?

_We see your pain. We hear your thoughts and the anguish of your soul. We can feel your constant agony and yes, you have disrupted the ways of the Universe. You have deliberately created a timeline that was not of your own nor of previous existence. You defied the Universe and you defied us. Your true desire is not hidden from us. We commend you for your courage and selflessness as well as aiding in the defeat of the Mad Titan. In return, we grant you your wish, Stephen Strange. We cannot return to you what is permanently lost, but we can give to you what we can._

Breaking into the Compound was relatively easy. It was still mostly destroyed even with most of the workers going into it over time. When you’re the Master of the Mystic Arts, nothing is really a challenge to you anymore and he got past most of the construction sites without lifting a finger.

Because of the danger of the Stones being all together, Stephen had placed the Stones each into their personal magic realm separated and kept safe until one of the heroes could return each stone to its respective timeline. Stephen knew it would be Steve, and it would’ve been Steve but with Tony in the hospital, he wanted to be there for his friend.

So, in the middle of the night concealed with magic protecting him and alerting him to everything within a radius, Stephen pulls each individual stone out of its protective pocket realm. Then, pulling the Time Stone out of the Eye, he aligns the stones.

And begins to bargain to them as he knows how to do.

The Stones were sentient. They were living and thriving beings that were connected to each other - they could read his inner heart, and especially with mind.

Originally, it would be him in place of Stark to right his wrongdoings, his life for Stark’s. With all six stones in front of him, reality seemed to warp around him and his lucidity began to slip. Probably from usage, the stones were affecting him.

_A sacrifice was to be made for all the wrongs to be righted. You were willing to sacrifice your own life for Stark’s, and now you are willing to sacrifice yourself again for what you believe is your current burden. You are a good soul with misplaced ideologies, Stephen Strange. See what all your sacrifice has done._

Stephen was confused at first, ready to die wholeheartedly. It was selfish to leave behind his son again when he promised himself he wouldn’t, but it all was so different. It all felt so wrong and Stephen couldn’t move on like this. He wasn’t ready to.

_You want to right your ways? Then we will allow you to do so, but not at the cost of your life by your hand._

A glint of light catches his eye and he looks up, alerted by the sudden presence of someone else and his magic barrier going off at another person. Quickly placing the Time Stone back into the Eye and hiding away the other Stones, Stephen prepares himself to deal with whoever it was.

“Who’s there?” He asks out, readying spells under his finger tips.

When he turns to the orange, shimmering light just a few feet away from him, it reveals the person slowly placed on the ground, seemingly lifeless. It lowers his defenses a bit, but Stephen doesn’t allow himself to be deceived, coming forth with the magic thrumming in his hands.

Approaching the body, his eyesight adjusts in the fading light, revealing the one and only assassin who had given her life and his heart drops down into his stomach. Natasha Romanoff.

*

The portal opens in the middle of the waiting room, scaring the woman at the desk at two am. It’s not the most ideal position to be in, Stephen decides, with unconscious woman in his arms, battered and bruised with dried blood all around her being. She looked near dead.

“I need help!” He calls out, careful not to jostle Natasha’s body too much.

The waiting room that once was still moves into action as two nurses sprint over to him and just a minute later, they’re wheeling in a portable bed to place the redhead on, talking back and forth to assess her damage. Stephen has heard it before, welcomes it like an old friend even, but he’s in complete shock. Everything around him feels numb and grey and yet…

The Soul Stone had given him the one who had given up her life for everything.

They wheel her off, leaving Stephen there wondering what he had done. Had he further fucked up the timeline? The two people who were meant to be dead are now alive with one fighting for her very life. He didn’t even know how he did it.

It feels like some sick joke.

So he waits. Paces, even. Restlessly sits in the waiting room now at 3 am. He could’ve healed her himself, but in a moment of panic - forgot. The Ancient One would surely be so disappointed to learn of his failure as the Sorcerer Supreme. God, Stephen is pretty sure he blanked out for the emotional distress sometime after 3:30.

Except he’s being awoken sometime later.

“Sir, are you the one that brought in the Jane Doe?”

Stephen nods, unable to find his voice as he sits up with urgency. The nurse tilts her head to the door. “If you will follow me, then. We have stabilized her.” And Stephen stands on jello legs, following her through the doors and into the winding halls. The nurse has a kind face, with scrubs matching her head scarf. The orange stands out of all the white.

It evokes a sense of sharpness within him.

He had been so caught up in his guilt that he left his son in hopes to die. And Stephen just can’t do anything right.

When Stephen gets to the room, he sees her all in tubes and wires and bandages. Another pang of guilt floods him but he enters the room, sitting down in the chair.

“I’ll leave you for a second.” The nurse says, retreating down the hall and only then does Stephen let the waterworks begin once more. The constant beep of the heart monitor feels like mockery, and he drops his head onto the railing of the bed.

“Please forgive me,” Stephen forces out to the unconscious woman. “I couldn’t...I’m sorry. I knew. I knew it’d happen and you must hurt so much from the fall..and yet I brought you back to suffer.” He didn’t know all of her story, none of what he didn’t see within the countless timelines he lived but he did know one thing: She deserved happiness unlike no other.

“I thought it was permanent. I don’t know how…”

Stephen sits there, letting the wave of sadness pass over before standing and fixing his attire. If she would live, then the least he could do is make sure she lived comfortably. So Stephen begins working on what healing magic he did know, fixing multiple breaks and her spine to heal faster. By sunrise, they’d likely be 90% gone, but he couldn’t heal it all. Healing was a process and frankly, he was exhausted and didn’t want to risk even trying to mess anything up.

Before the nurse returns, he dons the sling ring and portals away back to the Sanctum. She’d heal and wake up and it definitely would be jarring to everyone else when they learned about it. Maybe it would be enough to distract anyone else from him as well.

When he returns to the Sanctum, he places the sling ring back onto the side table and moves back up the stairs and towards his room. Emotions are running high and he is once more exhausted. Surprisingly, Eddie hasn’t moved around much, curled into a small ball and still peacefully sleeping oblivious to the world.

Stephen watches Eddie sleep for a moment before stepping forward to move back under the covers. The Stones were right; he had basically rewritten their timeline for Eddie in hopes that one day the man he saved would come to know the boy Stephen risked their timeline for. Would it be worth it?

Maybe, but maybe he could also force himself to begin the healing process - to slowly move on with his son and Wong. The rest could continue in happiness.

It might not have been the true Endgame, but Stephen would manage.

Right?


	2. A New Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen runs away from the truth staring right back at him, but then finds a bit of salvation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, when I wrote this, I didn't plan for it to be so short. I am very sorry and the chapters will get longer! I am in college and I write in my free time but I already have chapters in the drafts saved up! There will be mostly sporadic updates. My apologies for that. Kudos and comments appreciated! 
> 
> Not beta'd. I apologize if this seems a bit...ooc. I'm still fleshing out my writing!

“What the hell did you do?!”

Stephen looks up from his current book to Wong walking into the room. The man looks bewildered and furious at the same time and Stephen isn’t exactly scared but more confused and annoyed at having been interrupted from his reading. “Strange?!”

“Oh, it’s too early in the morning to be yelling like this. Stop that.” Stephen scolds, setting his book down and giving his full attention to the other sorcerer. “What now?” He asks, shooting Wong a look that basically told him “don’t waste my time.” He’s been easily agitated lately, emotions all over place most of the time and while it’s been funny to Eddie, Wong has been receiving the short end of the stick. 

Wong fixes him a look. “Don’t act as if you don’t know, Strange.”

“Oh, we’re on last name basis now. Must’ve been a horrible deed then.” Stephen responds with an eyeroll, sarcasm dripping from his voice like honey. “That hurts. I made you an uncle and this is how I’m repaid.”

“How is Natasha Romanoff living at this exact moment? You want to tell me about this new development?? Almost a week ago, a “man” brought in an unconscious woman with red hair and was gone when they went in to check again. Almost all her wounds were gone and she was identified as Black Widow. Mrs. Stark told me just now. She knows because they had to contact Mr. Barton and he contacted everyone else. I know you were behind it, Stephen.” 

The Sorcerer Supreme knew what the conversation was about, and had avoided it as long as possible but seems like that was out of the bag now. “When did you become so friendly with Mrs. Potts-Stark?” He asks instead, finding that having completely gone over his head. 

Wong glares at him, giving him that damn “Wong is disappointed in you” look. “I was at their wedding and we kept in contact through the past five years. She helped me with funds at times as much as I tried to tell her it was unnecessary and you dodged my question.” 

“What is there to dodge when you basically know what happened? Don’t be stupid.” 

“Stephen, I want the full story. She sacrificed her life for the Soul Stone, an irreversible act. Either that is a clone or you broke the laws of the Universe!” 

“I already did that!” Stephen argues, yelling back at Wong with full force before he slams his book closed and stands. “I did that when I saved Stark and I tried to right...right my wrongdoing.” He moves forward to face the furiated Wong. “I tried to fix it but instead, they gave me her instead, I guess. Vishanti, I don’t know.” 

Wong is quiet, mulling over that information as Stephen brushes past him, waving the book to fly back into his place. His reading mood is over now and he’d pick it up later. The sorcerer moves to leave but Wong speaks again, “They?” He asks with a now conflicted face.

“The Stones.” 

“The- the Infinity Stones??” 

“No, the Stonehenge.” 

Wong sighs in frustration, following after Stephen into the main entryway. “You went to the rest of the Stones and “they” gave you Romanoff a week ago and you didn’t tell me this?”

“Yes, because you’d react then how you’re reacting now! She’s alive and I’m sure she’s fine. So then there’s no need to chastise me over it because I’m already kicking myself daily over this and I don’t need anyone else but me to lecture me.” Stephen huffs, turning back to Wong and crossing his arms much like a petulant child. It’s horrible, and Wong notices that it’s _exactly_ like Eddie and his tantrums. 

“Your ego is still inflated as ever.” 

“Stuff it where the sun doesn’t shine.” 

Wong raises an eyebrow, but Stephen doesn’t further explain turning away and further pulling his jacket over his body. “I’m going out.”

“Thank god!”

Stephen whips his head around to glare at Wong. “What?”

“Just please, get out of here. Go do something productive. Go to the park or something.”

“I’m going out to get some food.” He clarifies, further adding. “Then I’m back to being the hermit you hate so much just to piss you off.” And yes, he might have been a bit irritable lately but Stephen honestly didn’t care at this point. He’d give Wong a gift basket or something to make up for it. The Supreme Sorcerer opens the front door and is greeted to the sight of none other than Pepper Potts. Or Stark. Her hand is raised to knock, face morphing into shock at the sight of him.

In a panic, Stephen shuts the door as quickly as he opened it. 

“What-” 

“For you.” Stephen rushes out. He books it out of the main area and up the stairs in record time just to hear the door open once more as Wong greets Mrs. Pepper Stark-Potts. Stephen is already on his way to his bedroom, panic surging in his chest. God please no, he wasn’t ready. 

He couldn’t face her yet. No, he could face interdimensional monsters but facing Mrs. Potts ( screw it, he was going by her maiden name at this point until otherwise) made him turn tail and run. It was a bit cowardice, probably, but he’d rather run his chances with Dormammu again. 

No, he couldn’t face the wife of the man he saved ironically. Oh yeah, they probably got married sometime after the dusting. Wong said he attended. It must’ve been a nice ceremony. 

_Rustling of clothes and stolen kisses of fire-_

Stephen rushes into his room and slams the door, probably with a little more force than necessary as he paces back and forth inside his room. He was _not_ going to think about that while she was downstairs. It felt illegal and all sorts of wrong. 

He heads for the sling ring on his bedroom drawer because guaranteed Wong was going to come knocking, and quickly makes a portal to- hell, a park. Anywhere but the Sanctum. 

Now, Stephen didn't think himself a coward but in all essence, he fit the description. Stepping out into the fresh sun from his cool bedroom sends a warm flush over his body even if it’s overshadowed by the fear that lingered behind. He sighs, closing the portal and walking over to a bench. It was the same park from 5 years ago when he first arrived to retrieve Stark to fight Thanos in the first place. It had been the first he had seen Stark in about a month and a half.

_He was crying. Red tinged the edges of his eyes and his expression just showed a broken man. Stephen didn’t understand what was wrong as he stood there on the doorstep of the Sanctum drenched in rain and slightly swaying. Stephen would be a fool to not let the man in._

Blinking back to the present, Stephen looks around the park. Family picnics, people jogging, a woman playing fetch with her dog and a group of elderlies doing Tai Chi all occupy the park. No one would mind him in casual clothing resting on a bench in the shade, mulling over that day. 

He shouldn’t be thinking about it, but how many times has he suppressed that night just for it to swarm him whole at the thought of Stark? He certainly didn’t remember being near blackout drunk he was. 

_”Tony…”_

_Silence meets him. Stephen tries again, more softly. Teary eyes turn to him, a shell of the playful gaze he remembered just two years ago. “Go back to her. Talk it out. I can obviously tell that you love her and you can’t let this be the end. Please.” The other man only replied with another sob._

“Dr. Strange?” 

Stephen looks up at the call of his name, spotting none other than Captain America in sweats and a shirt that is probably two sizes too small for him. He stands from the bench just as the war veteran approaches him but he doesn’t hold out his hand. It’s a small gesture seen as rude to others, but Stephen greatly appreciates it. “I thought I recognized you.” 

“Please, call me Stephen.” The sorcerer responds, offering a friendly smile. It’s been three weeks total since the final battle and Rogers looked better. All his wounds are gone; a product of the serum, Stephen remembers. “You look well.”

“I feel well. Well enough to get back into running.” Rogers chuckles, looking around the park. His overall demeanor seemed relaxed but there was a small tension in his shoulders as if he had been running to get rid of stress. 

Stephen smiles but it doesn’t keep its strength, fading as he turns his head to look off towards the park as well. It’s not tense between the two but it’s not completely comfortable either. 

“Out enjoying the weather?” 

Stephen looks over at Rogers, whose blue eyes are back on him in question. He doesn’t know if it’s a jab at Stephen's avoidance of every Avengers, Ravenger, and plus ever since the battle. Or maybe he was just trying to be friendly; Stephen doesn’t want to automatically assume anything. 

“You could say that.” He finally says, not thinking about how he wouldn’t even be out if Mrs. Potts hadn’t come to the Sanctum. Now that he thought about it, that was a bit sad. “Decided to get out for a bit. Fresh air is always good for everyone.” 

Rogers makes a noise of agreement, and the air becomes more tense as silence fills it once more. It’s as if both of them are waiting for the other to speak first, and at this point Stephen just wants to push past the invisible wall standing between him and the Captain. “How is Romanoff?” He asks, because he genuinely was curious about Natasha’s recovery. 

It puts a solemn smile on Rogers’s face, and he dips his head down. “Getting better. She had to start physical therapy as the fall had shattered a good part of her spine. It’s healed somewhat but she has to relearn. Nat’s a fighter; I’ll give it to her.” The smile turns from sad into a fond one just for a second that Stephen didn’t miss. 

He’s glad she’s healing just like Stark. It breathes a sense of relief through him. 

“Thank you.”

Stephen snaps his head back towards Rogers, confusion settling on his face. “For what?”

“For returning her to us.” 

“I didn’t…”

“The day that she woke up, about two days after she was admitted, Nat told me that all she remembers is feeling as if some lightning had pulled from that...void of death.” Steve looks mildly uncomfortable with describing the “afterlife”, but he brushes past it. “And the doctors also noted that her condition had lightened considerably after they first checked on her injuries. And I just figured…it would be something you would do. After...you know.”

After Stark, Stephen remembers. Everyone had seen the act in person after all and there was generally no question that he had saved the life of the man who saved everyone in the entire Universe. He had to turn off his phone the first day after from people contacting him- or trying to at least. Stephen despised all of the attention; he wasn’t in it for the flashy hero business. 

He gives a small smile, however. “It shouldn’t be me that you thank. I only brought her to the hospital. The Stones returned her to us.”

“Still. It’s what you-”  
  


“I’m not a hero, Captain Rogers.” Stephen interrupts, looking into the blank face of the super soldier. Contrary to what he thought, this man could easily hide his emotions. There’s a flash of surprise in his eyes, but Stephen doesn’t ponder on it. They’ve both been through hell and back; He understood wanting to hide what he felt. “What I’ve done is not worthy of praise of any kind.” 

Rogers is silent, studying Stephen to the point where he finds it uncomfortable before speaking. “It’s a guilt thing, isn’t it?” It’s a question, but both the men know it’s a fact. “Stark told me what happened on Titan - of how you saw all those futures and how it was the only way. Having that kind of knowledge and not being able to stop it...I’d be pretty guilty too.” 

And Rogers is trying to be a relating comfort, a level of understanding, but he’d never know. He’d never know the experience of living through millions of timelines and seeing familiar faces die over and over in the most gruesome ways due to Thanos. It was Dormammu over again, and Stephen still suffered nightmares from that - dying over and over. 

Stephen decides to break the silence with, “I’m relieved she’s recovering. And it’s good that she has you and the others around to help her.” Out of the corner of his eyes, Stephen can see him nod slowly, shifting his weight. 

Rogers’s voice turns...helpful and inviting. “Do you...do you want to see her possibly? It’s been near three weeks since the battle and even though you’re not an Avenger, you’re a part of the team. We won, and there’s no reason to distance yourself. Healing is a process and no one can go through it alone.” And there it is. The one thing Stephen had been dreading all along. Was this confrontation? Rogers couldn't possibly have known he would be in the park because it was a last second decision and he couldn't possibly have talked to Wong and this couldn’t have been meditated right? 

Was that why Wong was so “happy” when he decided to go out earlier? He had suggested going to the park of which Stephen remembered and-

“Son of a bitch.”

Rogers’s face turns into one of shock. “Uh- I’m sorry?”

“Fucking whore.” Stephen snarls out, bringing his hands up to run over his face. If it wasn’t Pepper then it was Rogers because somehow Wong knew that she would initially scare him into his room and he also knew Stephen knew Wong would come knocking and then flee to the one place his brain could come up with on the spot: the damn park Wong mentioned. “ _God damnit._ ” 

The confusion rolling of Steve is heavy as he steps forward with a concerned look etched onto his face. “Dr. Strange- Stephen, are you alright?”

Said man sighs, releasing the anger that had quickly escalated in him in order to listen to the ration part of his brain. Everyone had suffered Thanos. If the Spider child didn’t have PTSD from before then he does now from witnessing such events and seeing his mentor almost die violently twice and then dying himself. Death and sorrow surrounded them brought by the one and only Mad Titan. Guilt and anger and wondering why it had happened. 

And Stephen understands. The aftermath of it all would be spent together. Most returned to their families and began to move on. Stephen was with his, so how was that a problem? 

_”We can’t do this again.”_

“I’m fine.” The sorcerer remembers to say with Rogers concern deepening with every second Stephen didn’t answer. “I just...really hate my colleague.” And the blond’s concern morphs into confusion, one that brings a chuckle out of Stephen. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t funny. I realize it isn’t wise to use such unbecoming language around you.” 

Rogers' expression falls from concern into one that just conveys exhaustion at having been the butt of that joke for so long. It pulls more laughter out of Stephen and warmth fills his chest, relaxing in what seemed like forever. “Did Tony put you up to this? I just can’t seem to escape, can I?”

“We wouldn’t want you to.” Stephen responds as he smirks at the captain. Yes, Stark did tell him about that joke in passing once. It was after the infamous falling out of the Avengers and Stephen clearly remembered the conversation because he had turned it back around on him.

_"God, I hate Steve Rogers.”_

_“Do you?” Stephen asks passively, eyes closed as he was peacefully meditating. None other than Tony Stark moved around him, no doubt picking up things to examine them if the sound of various things moving was any indication to go by. He hung around the Sanctum frequently, not that Stephen minded, but the guy had a horrible sense of timing and keeping his hands to himself._

_Tony snorts. “Don’t act as if you didn’t hear me the first time.”_

_“What if I didn’t?”_

_The mechanic continues, purposely ignoring that question. “All patriotic but really a lying, traitorous bastard that doesn’t even know where his loyalties lie. He stabbed us in the back all for his illegal, brooding friend and took clean people who are now fugitives with him and they will never be on the right side of the law again. Guy is an asshole.”_

_Stephen hums, only half listening to Tony’s rambling. He was used to it by now, him meditating while Tony was a background noise. It became a routine at this point._

_“And don’t get me started on his ridiculously large sense of righteousness.”_

_Stephen snorts._

_“Got something to say, Merlin?”_

_“Only that you put the Iron in Irony.”_

_“No, no. Mine is justified and his is a false over-the-top “I’m doing the right thing and no one can change my mind and I even refuse to listen to the other side like a reasonable- no, a mature adult.” Tony huffs, and his voice carries over from Stephen’s left to the right. Something ceramic is placed onto a wooden desk. “You know the guy can’t curse to save his life? He probably thinks he’s Saint Mary incarnate. I said “shit”_ one _time and he’s yelling at me over comms “language!”. Like this isn’t the fossil age anymore,_ Steven, _things have fucking changed!”_

_Because Stephen is an asshole, and he can’t resist, he mutters: “Language, Tony.”_

_Silence meets him and Stephen opens his eyes to see Tony paused by the desk, a small wooden box in his hands as he gives Stephen the most exasperated look. The sorcerer allows a low chuckle to escape his lips as Tony sets down the box and brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose._

_“Sorry to tell you this but I’m breaking up with you.”_

_“A shame. I was getting used to you too. Whatever will I do now?”_

_“Asshole.”_

Stephen looks back over at Rogers, feeling the memory fade away back into his thoughts. That Tony was long gone and all he knew was Stark - just like that Stephen was long gone. What he wouldn’t give to press the rewind button and go back to the past and live like that. But he couldn’t, and the world would keep moving on regardless of what he wanted. 

It hurts, but it was time to close the door and hang up the memories.

“Could we start over?” Stephen asks, a bit more vulnerable than before. There was no going back - he couldn’t change the past nor could he relive what was once. Clinging to the jaded memories that would soon fade will eventually leave him with nothing. 

Rogers' mirthful expression turns more meaningful, and a smile breaks out over his face. “Of course. I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Stephen Strange.” 

He offers out his scarred hand for the other to shake, to which he takes it very gently with a light hold. “Call me Steve. It’s nice to meet you.” 

And maybe he’d allow himself to reach out. Stephen lost the love of his life and in essence, so did Rogers. _Steve._ He had the opportunity to stay behind when he returned to stones shortly after Stark’s original funeral. He had the chance to relive his life with Peggy but things have changed. 

If he could move on, then Stephen could too. What he and Stark had before was long gone now but Stephen had other things to focus on instead of being caught up in his head all the time. 

“I’m not doing anything for the morning. There’s a café down the block from here if you’re not busy?” 

Steve’s smile turns bright and he nods. “That’d be great.”


	3. Picking Up the Rhythm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding peace is the right next to confronting the truth. It's a process Stephen is (un)willing to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka: My beating to death the "Language" joke. No joke, I wear it into the ground because Steve slander is my second language. (No seriously, I do not like Canon Steve, anything after Age of Ultron/Winter Soldier is a fake Skrull.) #NotMySteve
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments! I appreciate them so much and they motivate me to no ends. I have this planned out to the end but I'm a bit conflicted on which ending I will do. Guess I will just let it play out. 
> 
> Author Notes/Edits: I redid the math (time is confusing). Eddie is actually five not six. He was not a year old during the Snappening. . Also to clear up confusion: Eddie is the son of Tony and Stephen. PLEASE please heed the tags, guys. This does include post mpreg - if you consider it mpreg because I changed Stephen's anatomy. Intersex is the correct term. I'm not trying to spoil anything.
> 
> Not beta'd! My apologies for any grammar/spelling/formatting mistakes. :) Enjoy

“She’s still struggling with walking for most of the part, but she’s still got her fiery attitude. I think that if she could, she would’ve escaped by now; Nat hates hospitals.”

“Sounds like something she’d do.”

“Trust me, she’s tried. It’s only because we’re on a rotation to watch her she doesn’t get far. She tried with Sam, Clint and Bucky, but she doesn’t get too far and especially with Buck. They were locked in a Russian screaming contest for twenty minutes.” Steve chuckles, as he leads Stephen out of the elevator and down the halls towards Natasha’s room. As promised, the soldier is taking Stephen to see her. 

It had been two days since they themselves initially “met” and Steve is actually good company. The two had talked back and forth via calls (since Stephen doesn’t prefer text), from light hearted discussion to sharing confessions and deep hearted guilt. 

As Wong had Pepper to vent to, Stephen found himself venting to Steve. It was a fast forming friendship and Steve was a very trusting person. No wonder the man was worthy of Mjolnir. 

When they approach the room, Steve knocks on the doorframe before walking in with Stephen right behind him. He’s slightly nervous, but the blond has earlier reassured that there was no reason to be and it was completely fine. 

Easier said than done. 

Nat is in the bed, sitting up and drinking from a white styrofoam cup while a tablet is in her other hand. When she sees Steve, her face lights up but spotting Stephen drops it back down into a blank expression. “Steve, they fucked up my meds again. I’m seeing things.”

“Nope, he really came to see you. Had to drag him here to do it, but it’s half of his own will. I count that as a win.” 

Natasha is silent for a second, green eyes surveying Stephen as Steve moves to sit to her left. “Huh.” She says after a while, sipping from the cup and not breaking eye contact with the sorcerer. 

It feels like he’s being sized up or something - brought before a supreme judge. This was the woman who sacrificed her life for the Soul Stone - it was practically a part of her now. It takes everything in him not to shift or show any spots of nervousness, meeting her gaze without hesitancy. He can’t find the right words - doesn’t really know what to say, so he blurts the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Do you just openly curse in front of a senior citizen?” 

The room is still for a second, but the tense air seems to break like a bubble and a wicked smirk comes over Natasha’s face just as Steve groans. “Strange, I swear-”

“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. Steve, I’m so sorry you had to hear such filth from me-”

“Really, Nat?” Steve mumbles, raising a hand to rub at his forehead. 

Natasha continues as if Steve hadn’t spoken a word. “-Do you want me to clean out my mouth with soap? Or are you going to lecture me with your all-American teaching? I think he’s going to lecture me, Strange.”

“Oh, he’s definitely going to do that. Might as well sit tight for the next few hours.”

“Not like I have anywhere else to go. I’ve gotta mentally prepare myself.”

“Will you two stop that?” Steve cuts in with exhaustion worn on his voice but the smile on his face betrays him, much to both of their amusement. “I didn’t come here to be poked at.”

“But we’re not poking you.” Natasha argues, and the look Steve gives her is instantly returned with an innocent smile. Even though Stephen has not formally met Natasha Romanoff before this, he’s met her through various timelines but this Nat by far had to be the best. It was real and she was here, alive. He could tell she cared very much for her team- her family after everything they’ve been through. 

Both Steve and Natasha hold a gaze for too long to be normal and Stephen has to hold back his own smirk at it, moving to sit in one of the spare chairs to Natasha’s right. He clears his throat, breaking the spell between the two. “As much as I would hate to interrupt, I’d rather not have you two eye fuck each other while I’m still present.” 

Both of them seem to try and explain at once that that was very much _not_ what they were doing, but Stephen doesn’t pay attention, pretending as if he wasn’t going to ask Steve about it later because he so was. 

“It’s not-”

“We’re not-”

“No that wasn’t-”

“You’re the one to talk.” 

Stephen snaps his head to Natasha, confusion showing on his face. What the hell did that mean? However, the redhead keeps her expression neutral without betraying her true emotion while Steve is none the wiser. “And watch your goddamn language.” She continues. Stephen has to strain to hold in his laughter. God, it’d never get old.

Steve throws his hands up in the air, visibly done with the both of them and standing from the chair. “That’s it. I’m going to the cafeteria and I’m not bringing back anything for you.”

“Aww..” Natasha makes a fake pouty face with her bottom lip jutting out. “How will I survive now? Rogers, you can’t do this to me; I’m paralyzed.” 

“Give it a rest, Romanoff. The joke is old.” 

“Well, technically, so are you.”

Stephen watches the interaction with interest. The blond wasn’t lying when he said she had her fiery personality back as if she were never dead at all and near paralyzed. Steve grabs his jacket off the back off the chair and heads for the door just as Natasha shouts “Lemon meringue pie!” 

“Yeah, yeah!” Steve shouts right back as he disappears out the room and Stephen finally allows himself to give small chuckles, drawing Natasha’s attention to him.

“Quite the flirtation thing you guys got going there.” 

Natasha raises an eyebrow and tilts her head, a smaller smile on her face this time. She set the cup down on a bedside table and set the turned off tablet to the side. “Can we not just have friendly banters from time to time?”

“I’ve been in the same position as you. That was _not_ “friendly banter.”” 

Natasha hums, shifting her position and leaning her elbow on the bed railing to prop her chin onto the palm of her hand. “So what you have with Tony then?”

It sends a lightning strike down Stephen’s spine as he sits up with a snap, tightening his jaw and meeting her questioning gaze. He has been nowhere near Tony ever since the battle and they haven’t had a single conversation so how could she have known? She was dead for how long??

The silence stretches on and he forces himself to breathe. “What I _had_ with Stark, yes, but it’s long over. He’s married and moved on. So have I.” 

“Clearly you haven’t if you didn’t go to check on the guy. Tells me all I need to know.” 

Ah, so she was observant and got her details from everyone else, then in her free time thought up a theory. And Stephen had stupidly just confirmed it. He gives a frustrated grunt, and looks towards the muted TV in the upper corner of the room. “Just because I’m too busy to see him doesn’t mean I’m stuck up on it. I’m still Sorcerer Supreme and Protector of the Realm. That and it is technically none of your business.”

Natasha takes a bit more time to answer, fidgeting with her fingers. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“...Save me.”

He doesn’t answer, dropping his gaze to his lap where his scarred hands resided, cupped together. They were constantly trembling, a forever reminder of his mistake, and his eyes run over the scars in thought. He remembers holding Eddie when he was a newborn and seeing the unmarred skin next to his own. It felt like mockery for such innocence to come from him.

But why did he save Natasha? Well, he didn’t do it intentionally. Could he tell her that? Would it crush her heart to learn she wasn’t meant to be alive? 

“You don’t know, do you?” Natasha asks, dropping her gaze to the sheets. “I don’t know why you did it either. I sacrificed myself for a reason; I don’t exactly have anything to live for.” 

It might’ve not been her intention, but those words drive a stake through Stephen’s chest. It felt as if she didn’t want to be alive, but maybe that wasn’t the case. He didn’t know what she was feeling at the moment and this was the main reason why he avoided Natasha and Stark. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know. I went to the stones to trade my life for Stark’s and I was given you in return. Vishanti, I thought I messed up. The two of you were made to be the Universe’s sacrifice and yet you still live. It’s a good thing, don’t get me wrong, because I want you to be alive.” 

Natasha is silent. She also doesn’t seem uncomfortable but rather eager for him to continue if the way she looked up at him was any indication. Her green eyes were curious, wanting to ask him what he meant, but Stephen saves her the trouble. 

“When I saw the millions of timelines against Thanos, many of them involved you. Before that, I hadn’t even known who you were or of your importance but I met you. From then to now, I know you. Not this timeline’s you, but across every available future is the multiverse of what could’ve happened. And I...you deserved to live. You deserved to just as much as Stark because all you two ever do is fight and put down your lives for others.. I’m sorry if you hate me for doing this to you.” 

It’s a long winded speech, and it probably didn’t fully convey his message across. Natasha is looking off at the blank wall without another word. It feels like a weight has been taken off Stephen’s shoulders, but it may have been placed onto hers. He’s just confessed to her but hopes it doesn’t come off as “Oops, it was an accident and you’re meant to be dead.” 

Stephen rubs his aching hands together, waiting for Natasha’s response anxiously as the minutes stretched on. It’s about five minutes later does she inhale loudly through her nose, the only sound that Stephen takes as she’s still there since she was so...so quiet. 

“You didn’t do “this” to me. You did it for me.” Natasha says, looking at Stephen with sympathetic and grateful eyes once more. “I actually heard a voice...in the Soul Stone which I perceive as _my_ death. It said “it’s not the end”, and all I remember is just feeling lightning pain and being sucked out. At first I was horrified. Did we not win? I didn’t know.” Natasha takes another breath, which is noticeably shaky. “But then I remember darkness and pain and not being able to move but being _aware_. Like...Like a coma, I guess. I heard your voice, then most of the pain was gone and so were you. Woke up around two days later from that initial experience.” 

“You know, Bruce told me the Stones listen,” Natasha continues, gaze turning towards the TV. “You can command them and they’ll listen. It’s how he brought everyone back, of course. You say you didn’t intend to bring me back, but I think it really was your subconscious intention.” Natasha shrugs, grabbing the cup to fiddle with it. “If that makes sense, I’m not sure. I jumped for a reason, because of my family and the universe. I couldn’t let Clint jump because he still had something to live for. I knew we’d win and he’d move on but he told me that he could never move on without me. And yet I’ve felt...different ever since I returned. Clint and Steve say I’m still me, but I don’t feel like it. They said it was irreversible and I thought so as well. Maybe I'm not...Maybe I’m a shell of who I was.”

Stephen understood. Returning from death to five years in the future meant that he wasn’t himself as well and even he hasn't fully adjusted to it yet. Eddie was returning to school that day as children with snapped parents and snapped children themselves were given three weeks to settle back in. He enjoyed having time with his son who he could actually carry a conversation with but he missed the baby who babbled nonsense as if it were the smartest revelation in the world. Stephen missed how tiny Eddie was and how he’d cling to Stephen all the time. Eddie did that now, but he weighs more and it’s more pressure on Stephen’s hands. 

He couldn’t even carry his baby for an extended time. 

A white blur enters his line of sight, and Stephen snaps back to reality where he didn’t even notice his eyes filling with tears. Natasha’s arm is extended with a tissue offered to him, but he doesn’t talk about her own green eyes shining with the small threat of tears. “Guess you feel the same way, huh? Having been snapped and being dead?”

“Everything has changed and it feels so different. It’s like I don’t even know the world I grew up in anymore- My own son…” Stephen takes the tissue, but doesn’t wipe his eyes. He instead blinks away the tears and fiddles with the soft tissue for his hands. He gives a sad chuckle as well, keeping his gaze away from Nat. “Sorry. It’s- so ridiculous but there’s nothing like feeling yourself rip away piece by piece and thinking only about your baby on another planet and praying to some god that he wouldn’t suffer like that. Wouldn’t witness it _._ He’s too young. Even if he would move on, it’s better than death.” 

“If you say you’re ridiculous one more time, I’ll crawl out of this bed and whack you.” Natasha says and pulls a mix of a sob and laugh from Stephen. She places the cup down on the side table and moves that out of the way. Scooting over by mainly moving from the waist up and carefully sliding her legs along with her, she pats the spot on her bed. “Up.”

“Natasha, I can’t-”

“I’ve been in here for a week and I’m losing my mind. Entertain me, please.” 

Stephen hesitates before standing and slowly maneuvering onto the bed in order to lay under the cover next to Nat. It feels awkward at first, but the redhead moves closer to sling her arm across his chest and shrink the distance between them. “I’m trying to cuddle you. Don’t move.”

“Well, given that you can hardly move yourself, shouldn’t I be doing that?”

“I can still find 87 ways to harm you in my condition right now.” 

“Ouch.” Stephen responds in disbelief and half sarcasm, but doesn’t move as Nat has to try and wiggle her way to sling her body on its side and curl into Stephen. It takes a while, and she gives a few hisses of pain and what he assumes is curses in Russian before finally settling comfortably against the sorcerer. 

It’s another hot minute before Stephen can truly relax, slightly turning his body into Nat’s and carefully placing his own arm around her waist. Her head is relaxed in the crook of his neck, and she feels warm until he realizes that he was cold - numb to the feeling. 

“You know Steve could return at any second right?”

“It’s not like we’re fucking.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.” 

Natasha gives him a sharp poke to his side, gaining a snort from the sorcerer. “We’re not dating nor is he the jealous type.”

“I can bet any kind of money that you’re wrong on both accounts.”

“Shh...you’re ruining the cuddling mood. We’re both broken and empty people returned from the dead that are going through a crisis and currently pining after someone that’ll never happen. Now be quiet.”

“Wait-”

Natasha gives a sharp shush, and Stephen takes that as a sign to be quiet as he slips his eyes closed. With a wave of his hand, the lights dim on their own because he’s pretty warm and comfortably cuddled close to Nat which equaled a nap. “Ooh, magic.” Nat jokingly whispers, and Stephen smiles but doesn’t open his eyes or say anything else.

It eases his guilt, and relaxes his state of mind. Maybe he did need to just talk to her, and Stephen hopes to get to really know this Natasha, and not the alternate versions. Or maybe this was indeed an alternate Natasha, and the real Natasha's soul was still traded for the Soul Stone. It would take time to heal and deal with these feelings that couldn’t go away on their own. Wong didn’t understand, and Steve certainly didn’t but Natasha did. 

Sometime later, Stephen feels the edge of his mind pull back from the comfort of sleep. He didn’t even know he fell asleep, but everything comes rushing back into his memory. Natasha is still curled against him loosely, peacefully slumbering but someone else is in the room. That’s probably what woke him up: the detached voices. 

“They look peaceful.”

His heart jumps at the voice of Pepper Potts, but he forces himself to remain calm and keep up the illusion that he was still asleep. The hum of Steve answers him, and he figures that the blond must’ve slipped in earlier when he was truly asleep. 

“Yeah, they do.”

“Tony wanted me to stop by and check on the both of you. Says that I’m the only one capable of keeping the both of you out of trouble - his words, not mine.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, it’s not like we knew she would try and escape via vents. Or a wheelchair. Or actually crawling down the stairs when the doctors told her that minimal movement was optimal.”

“An escape artist, then.”

“Always has been.”

It’s silent for a while before Steve speaks again. “How is he doing? Is being at home better now?”

“Oh, definitely. I don’t have to hear him complaining about the “sorry excuse of hospital food” every hour. He’s creating a prosthesis - a vibranium arm like James’. I’m sure he’s creating a brace for Natasha as well because he’s mentioned it in passing.”

“Sounds like a Tony thing.” 

It does sound like a Tony thing, Stephen mentally agrees. 

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. Nat can’t wait to get out of here anyways she can.” 

“Is physical therapy going well?”

“It’s...going, is all I can say. We’re getting there.”

Steve sounds uncomfortable, Stephen can tell that much. He can also hear the shift of the super soldier, and even feel the air become tense. Maybe the subject was a touchy thing for Nat, and it wasn’t “going” at all. Maybe Steve was just hesitant to talk about it right in front of the spy. Stephen can’t tell but either Natasha is really good at faking sleep or she is unaware of the conversation altogether. It’s still smart of Steve not to assume anyways.

Pepper is the next to speak. “Has Peter stopped by yet? He mentioned wanting to come and visit a while ago.”  
  


“Oh yeah, Queens first visited a week ago. He’s been in second frequently, only under Clint. I think most of the team and extended has stopped by ever since word got out she was...well, alive.” 

Pepper gives a mix of a chuckle and huff. “Tony wants to come himself, but just like Natasha, rest is what we’re striving for at the moment. You’d think almost dying would stop him, but no, he’s probably more active than ever. The only reason I can convince him to stay put is because I don’t want him to strain himself to the grave _again_ and waste the chance Stephen has given him.”

It takes every fiber of him not to snap his eyes open and look at her, but Stephen manages, breath hitching for only a split second as Pepper continues.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to him..for three weeks,” She sounds exhausted, giving a half breath and laugh of disbelief. “I didn’t know you could avoid someone for that long when you’re so close and yet so far away. I just wanted to thank him. I really thought…” Her voice slightly wavers, but she surprisingly keeps her composure. “I really thought he was gone. I knew this was it. No coming back from death and all I could think about was how “this is where I lose him”.” 

No other words are spoken. Stephen can understand why she hurts- watching your one love dance with death for years and fighting over just that on and off again. When you think that there’s no more scares, the Universe proves you wrong. 

Steve is the next to talk after a while. “I tried to thank him for bringing Natasha back to us, but he didn’t want to be thanked. Bringing back two people from death and yet... What happened affected all of us.” 

There’s a rustling of clothes before Pepper speaks, voice clearer but holding the ghost of tears. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding.”

“Please, don’t apologize-”

“It’s just all so much and it doesn’t feel real. It feels like a reality that I’m going to wake up from and find everything was a dream.”

Those words put a sense of dread into Stephen. It seemed everyone was feeling unreal or a sense of this is a dream. Was it normal? It couldn’t be. It had been three weeks and yet it was still affecting everyone. 

He couldn’t be overthinking. Could he? No, he wasn’t.

It was because of him - he messed up the reality. What if because he saved Tony...he didn’t change the timeline but created a branch of one where as the original kept going. This was the alternate reality where the original...Stark had died. Tony _is_ dead. 

But then this meant their reality wasn’t real but merely a branch of the true one. He was living in a false reality - one he had created. Nothing was real. 

Had the souls of Stark and Natasha been transferred to this one and they were really dead? The sacrifice for the Soul Stone is irreversible, so then what Natasha was in front of him right now?? What did he _do?!_

It was his fault. 

He can’t fake sleep anymore, too horrified to even think about it at the moment as he opens his eyes and sits up, disconnecting himself from Natasha who was also _realistically dead._ Nothing but a corpse, but she’s breathing. But what if it’s all in his head. The room is dim but it spins as he immediately begins to slip out of bed on shaky feet in a second. 

“Stephen?”

“Dr. Strange?”

Two voices come at once, and he almost tilts to the floor until two pairs of hands are on him - one petite and one larger. One of them is asking if he’s okay but he just wants to reach the sling ring and get back to the Sanctum. Get home. _Run away run away run away-_

He opens his mouth to attempt to talk, but his throat constricts as the room keeps spinning - making the task of focusing even harder.

“Get a nurse!”

Someone is running out of the room and Stephen is lowered onto the floor, feeling the cold seep through his pants. “Stephen, I need you to focus on my voice right now. I know it’s hard but just listen to my voice.”

The world is turning and tilting this way and that way and Stephen feels like he’s floating. The voice is far away and too loud at the same time, coming in and out and he can’t grasp at it like water slipping through his fingers. 

“Stephen, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine.” He wheezes out, feeling his hands clench into fists involuntarily and freeze up, sending spikes of distorted pain up his arms. “Need to get out-”

“No, I don’t think so. Look at me right now.”

It takes a while but he looks ahead and it’s like a fog lifts up. Pepper is kneeling in front of him, face blurry but he’s able to make out her wide eyes and mouth partially open as if piecing together what she’d say next. Stephen makes out two more pairs of footsteps nearing and another person kneels next. 

“Is he alright?”

“We need to-”

“-move back-” 

“-check his pulse-”

A dizzy spell overtakes Stephen, from what he didn’t know. Everyone is crowding him and all he does know is he’s slouching forward into Pepper, succumbing to the darkness once more as all that echoes is his name. 

*

His head hurt, and it felt like everything was underwater. 

Soft sheets are the first thing his senses pick up. There’s a blanket over him, tucked just under his chin and then he finally registers the dull pain in his hands. He finally wills himself to open his eyes and shift off of his back and onto his side. It takes sluggish movements, but he takes in the empty hospital room trying to remember what he did to get there in the first place. He didn’t feel injured or anything of that matter.

Stephen moves to sit up, blanket pooling down around his waist as he looks around the room once more. An IV is hooked up into his arm, one he didn’t notice before, so he automatically removes it carefully but with haste. 

He wasn’t sick nor was he hurt. It was a panic attack, he now remembers. There was no need for such formalities. 

Slipping out of the bed, Stephen had to be careful since he was still dizzy and feeling faint but there was no way in hell he was staying put. 

The room was empty, but there’s a leather purse in one of the spare chairs that Stephen would guess would be Mrs. Potts-Stark’s. That’s all the more reason to book it out of high dodge. However, just after he waved his regular clothes back onto his being - and when the hell did they change him into a gown - a nurse walks in with a clipboard.

“Dr- Dr. Strange?” She looks down at the board, before nodding when she sees she’s correct. He’s gotten that reaction many times. “Glad to see you’re awake and doing alright. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit as usual. Can I go now?” Stephen rushes out with a pinched tone. It’s a bit harsher than usual, and this must be a baby nurse because she gives a small flinch that Stephen notices. 

“I’m Nurse Bailey. I’m assigned to your care under Dr. Green and I wouldn’t advise leaving at this exact moment.” 

“I don’t care. It was a panic attack and I have those all the time.” 

“Well, we needed to look further into it, sir. Your blood sugar levels were dangerously low and-”  
  


“Did you draw my blood?”

The nurse is quiet, and Stephen has to swallow down the rising bile of anger in his throat. Everyone was overreacting and it wasn’t that serious. “I want to be discharged immediately.” He demands, and the nurse tenses up to attention. 

“Sir, that is against medical advis-”

“Don’t care. I’ll take the discharge papers, please.” 

“Sir-”

A tall, lanky man with blonde peppered with grey hair enters. He closes the door after him, looking at both of them. “Hello there, sir. I’m Doctor Green; it’s nice to see you’re finally awake.” He greets with a friendly smile that Stephen can tell is plastered on because he’s done it a million times. “How are you feeling today?”

“As if I’m going to burn this place to the ground if I’m asked that one more time,” Stephen responds coolly, and he can feel his magic sparking through his body as if this man were bad news. The doctor only laughs as if it were the funniest thing ever, and moves closer. 

“Why don’t you take a seat, Stephen?”

Stephen looks back at the bed he gestured to, but then looks back at Dr. Green. “No, I don’t think I will. It’s Dr. Strange to you.” It’s subtle but aggressive and Stephen knows that Dr. Green knows. 

The man simply smiles and leans against a side table. “That’ll be all, Nurse Bailey.” He dismisses the timid girl, who doesn’t think twice about it. She leaves the clipboard and quietly exits the room as the tension grows higher. Stephen can feel the pressure just looming over him ready to burst. When Dr. Green speaks again, it automatically gets on Stephen’s nerves. “Your name is running around here like wildfire, Doc. The famous surgeon that dropped off the face of the earth and now you’re here.” 

Stephen looks over at the somewhat smug man, narrowing his eyes. “This is highly unprofessional of you. I’d like to be discharged and it’d be in your best interest to do so.” 

“We took some blood, just to run some tests because you fainted out of nowhere. It could’ve been health-related that we needed to tend to; we didn’t know.” Dr. Green continues, walking over to the clipboard the nurse left and picking it up. “Of course, I had to pick up your case. What doctor wouldn’t?”

“Whatever you’re dragging on, I’d like to know if it concerns me. Otherwise, I’m leaving.” Stephen says with a sharp edge. It isn’t enough to deter the doctor, however, who smiles and looks down at the papers. 

“We ran multiple tests, and noticed something odd. Not just your blood sugar levels, Your HCG levels. At first, I thought: “Huh. That’s odd. Testicular cancer, something else...But then, I just thought...Maybe we’d perform an ultrasound.” 

Stephen feels his body run cold. They couldn’t possibly have. He wasn’t out for _that_ long, was he? How the hell did they do all of that?! His heart rate speeds up, thumping loudly in his ears as Dr. Green takes his silence to continue. “Now, I don’t know your history personally. Medical history indicates no sorts of sex changes, hormonal treatment or anything of that nature-”

“Are you suggesting I’m a transsexual?” Stephen was at first absolutely furious and had to force himself to remain calm but now he finds it amusing. It seemed like he was dealing with more than just an arrogant doctor. 

Dr. Green shakes his head with a small laugh, before setting the clipboard down and removing his glasses to look at Stephen with a completely blank face. “I’m suggesting that there’s something abnormal about you. No biological male can carry a fetus or nevertheless give off the HCG levels of a pregnant woman with no signs of cancer. You break all the laws of science.”

Stephen chuckles, moving closer to Dr. Green with a smirk. “Your transgender theory made more sense. No biological male can become pregnant, yes, and you said yourself you took a look at my medical history so you should have your answer.” His smirk falls and his gaze turns threatening, eyes boring into the doctor’s without flinching. “Whatever _dirt_ you’re trying to dig up on me, I advise you stay in your place instead of looking for your 15 minutes of fame. You’re a doctor, not a reporter. _Act like it._ ”

He’s dealt with wayward doctors before but he wasn’t very much in the mood today. Dr. Green is silent; his face is stone and without a hint of emotion. Of course, Stephen can tell that he’s calculating something, but the sorcerer didn’t have time to entertain such foolishness. “I will be taking my leave. Will that be all, Dr. Green?” He, however, doesn’t wait for an answer and turns to exit the room, silently casting a spell so no one else could recognize him. It works, because he sees Pepper in the distance outside a door talking with Mr. Wilson, the Falcon. Stephen continues on to the lobby where he quickly discharges himself and leaves back to the Sanctum.

It was just 4 pm when he’s back in the familiar setting of the mansion, sighing in relief and moving towards the kitchen to make some tea. Most of the day is wasted and on such trivial things too. Yet, he can’t seem to stop thinking about earlier. It confirms Stephen’s suspicion but also instills fear in him.

No, Stephen wasn’t a transgender or anything of that nature but a special case. Instead of transitioning, Stephen didn’t have to because he had both parts or other words: hermaphrodite.

He preferred “intersex” most of the times. Both private parts, but only one functioning for reproduction. He was meant to be a female, but apparently sometime in the beginning of the second term switched it around. Most of his insides were female: ovaries, womb and the like, but he mainly had testosterone running through his body. 

Imagine his parents’ shock. 

However, they raised him as male and treated him like it, so Stephen really never had an issue with his body. 

Stephen sighs, and places the tea kettle on the stove for it to heat up, leaning against the counter in thought. Right before the Snap, he was aware of the baby because of his morning sickness but with the battle on Earth, the spaceship, and then Titan, he figured they couldn’t have survived that plus being dead for five years. It was too much stress. It wasn’t…

On top of learning this was an alternate reality, his baby had survived. How did that even..?

Wong had mentioned something about expectant women being snapped and being returned with their baby completely fine in all stages so did that count him? It couldn’t have - he was tortured and fought against Thanos twice. 

And how was he going to explain that to everyone who knew his son? They didn’t know Eddie came from him except Wong and Christine but they had been there with Eddie. He really didn’t have to explain, but it was hard to hide something this large. 

_It’s storming outside. It had been particularly stormy that week and to be expected. Thankfully, Eddie had gone down to sleep easily after a bottle of warm milk and he wasn’t too scared of the thunder._

_Wong had gone to bed early, due to having to get up early that next morning. That left Stephen the only one awake in the Sanctum, reading and listening out if Eddie did cry for him. He certainly didn’t expect a pounding on the door a quarter till 10, discernible through the sound of rain. He could've spelled it to instantly teleport them inside, but didn't know who had approached. He needed to redo the outside protection spells._

_He looks up from his book, setting down the cup of tea from his slightly trembling hand and moving to bookmark his place. The pounding continues, frantic, but Stephen isn’t exactly in a rush to get there. Who would it even be at this time and in the rain?_

_He’s standing and walking out of the open study room to the main entryway when the pounding comes again. “I’m coming!” He yells so the person could stop, sighing and unlocking the door. He knew the person on the other side was trusted by the Sanctum as he had spelled it only to appear to those Wong or him knew personally at times. Better safe than sorry._

_Tony is standing on the other side, completely soaked in rain and slightly shivering due to the cold. It shocks Stephen, and his brain short circuits at the sight._

_“Take a picture. Want an autograph too?” comes from Tony, slightly slurred but still snarky. It snaps Stephen to attention who steps to the side to let him in._

_Tony steps in, swaying and grabbing onto Stephen’s forearm to steady himself when he nearly trips over the doorway._

_“Christ, you’re soaked to the bone.” Stephen grunts out, taking the sudden weight of Tony to keep him from falling over. “Why were you out in this weather anyway?”_

_“Easy sh’wer.” Tony simply answers probably as a failed joke, mumbling and looking straight ahead. Even though he’s drunk, the asshole could still crack a joke. Stephen closes the door, further leading the billionaire in and over the rug so he wouldn’t be dripping everywhere before enacting a spell to dry him off._

_“Why are you here?” Stephen asks after leading the drunk man to the study room. He’d need some water, so Stephen grabs an extra cup for Tony to flush whatever out of his system. It had been near two years since he’d seen the man. Maybe the sorcerer was bitter, maybe he wasn’t._

_Okay, he’s bitter._

_Tony looks up at him, eyes wobbling slightly before landing on the man standing in front of him then slipping down to the glass water in his gloved hands. “Had t’see you,” He slurs, taking the glass but not downing any water._

_The words send a pang of hurt through Stephen, as he sighs and takes the seat across from Tony. “You had the opportunity long before this. Why were you drinking?”_

_“Fight,” Is all Tony says after a while, and Stephen doesn’t have to ask because he knows exactly who he’s talking about._

_It’s not ideal to have a drunk man in the mansion with a sleeping infant, but it’s charmed so Stephen doesn’t worry and sighs. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know why they fought, but the broken look that Tony has on his face says enough. “But you could’ve stayed at the Compound.”_

_Tony doesn’t comment on that, sipping on some more water then giving a shaky sigh. “..fucked up,” He admits, running his hand over his face. Stephen refrains from talking, giving him the time if he needed it. “I..m’ssed up so fuckin’ bad.” The slurring becomes more prominent, before he sets the cup down. Tony leans forward to place his elbows on his knees and cover his face with both hands, inhaling and exhaling deeply._

_While Tony sat there pondering over whatever, Stephen picks up his tea cup and continues reading in silence. It’s better to supervise Tony than to have him alone and drunk, he figures. Even though he doesn’t understand why he has to do it. A good five minutes pass in silence before there’s rustling of clothes and the sound of Tony standing._

_Stephen looks up, sighing. “What are you-”_

_Warm lips meet his when he looks up, slotting together like a puzzle piece snapping into place. It makes Stephen jump, but he melts into it, feeling like his soul was floating. He could taste the liquor on Tony’s tongue, and he’s sure Tony can taste the tea on his._

_He has to break the kiss first, pulling back and opening his eyes just as Tony does the same, brown searching a mix of green and blue. “Tony…”_

_“M’ssed you,” Tony responds,_

_“You can’t-”_

_Stephen is cut off by Tony pressing forward to capture his mouth again, and the sorcerer knew where this was going. It’s happened before. He was the rebound, the one to pick up his pieces and send him on his way back to where he came from. It wasn’t healthy nor was it ideal, especially after the past near two years of no contact, but Stephen couldn’t find it in his heart to stop._

He should’ve stopped. 

The tea kettle begins whistling just as he comes to, taking the kettle off the hot eye and moving to fix his cup and tea bag. The front door opens and the excited voice of Eddie carries into the Sanctum, echoing loudly. It puts a small smile on Stephen’s face. 

“-And Ella said that her cat came back and with kittens! Can we get a cat, Uncle Wong? Or a puppy? Or a lizard! I promise I’ll take care of it! Dad!” 

“In the kitchen, buddy.” Stephen calls out, counting down three seconds of silence before the sound of running footsteps lead Eddie to appear in the kitchen, face lighting up at the sight of him. 

“Dad!” Eddie sprints forward to barrel himself into Stephen’s legs, which results in a small “oof”, before raising up his arms. “Can we get a pet?” 

Stephen is surprised he hasn’t asked earlier than this. He pours the hot water into his cup, surprisingly not spilling it with Eddie trying to bulldoze him over, before setting the kettle down and bending over to scoop his son up. “I’m not sure about that, Eddie Bear.”

“We barely have enough room for children, nonetheless pets which are just children but hairier… and they poop more.” Wong says, entering the kitchen just seconds after the hyper boy. He sends a stern look to Eddie’s pouty face. “No pets.”

“Awww...no fair”

“Sorry, bud, but Uncle Wong is right.” Stephen confirms, much to the amusing frown of his son. He continues after a small pause. “Though I’m sure we have room for one more.” 

He gets two looks, one hopeful and one slightly threatening. 

“Just not a pet.” Stephen clarifies with a roll of his eyes, and then the two looks turn into ones of confusion before Eddie breaks the silence first. 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Then, that’s tough. Go do your homework before it gets dark.” Stephen sets Eddie down on his feet, ruffling his hair and pulling a pout from the boy. Still, Eddie huffs but runs off to do as he’s told, leaving the two sorcerers in the kitchen. 

Wong opens and closes his mouth multiple times, at a loss for words. Stephen finds it mildly entertaining. He turns back to his cup of tea, warm but not too warm for his hands, and pulls out the honey to sweeten it just a bit. 

“You…”

Stephen looks over at Wong, stirring the tea and walking over to the kitchen island. He situates himself on the island stool, sipping from the warm liquid and watching Wong’s conflicted face before it lights up with realization. 

“You-”

“Sh. Eddie might hear.” 

“So you are!” Wong exclaims, before he turns his head to peer into the study room where Eddie is lying on the floor and pulling out various small books. “I thought…”

“So did I. We both were wrong, apparently.” Stephen casually states, shrugging and thumbing the warm tea cup. His hands stung from holding Eddie, but no pain would keep him from ever carrying his son while he was still young. “Found out today from the hospital when I went to visit Natasha.”

“Do they..”

“No. I was alone.”

Wong’s face falls flat. “Must you interrupt everything I say?” He frowns, which further deepens at Stephen’s growing smile. 

“No, but it’s rather fun when I do.”

“How far along are you?”

Stephen thinks for a second, sipping from the cup and calculating the time. “Around the beginning of 12 weeks is when I last knew. That was when Banner crashed into the Sanctum, and the battle against Thanos began. So then I must’ve been snapped around that time, and plus the three weeks I’ve been back makes around 15 weeks..”

Wong goes through that math, before his face morphs into disbelief. “So two months before Thanos, you-”

“Purposely interrupting you now.”

“With who??”

Stephen doesn’t say anything, choosing from that moment to sip from his tea again as Wong gives an exasperated sigh. “Don’t tell me you went back to him.”

“No, rather he came to me.” Or " _into_ me", Stephen thinks crudely, but Wong would have his head if he said that outloud.

“In the Sanctum?!”

Stephen feels like he’s being chided, but he felt like that 80% of the time with Wong anyways. Instead of uncle, he should’ve been grandfather because he was very much in dad mode right now. “Eddie was one at the time,” Wong continues, but has to remember to keep it down or risk the mentioned boy overhearing.

“He was technically nine months.”

“You brought him back into here when you explicitly said you were done with him after the first heartbreak-” Wong lowers his voice to a yelling whisper. “-and now you’re having his third child! Who is older but younger than the second. Stephen, do you know how much this complicates things?!”

“Yep,” The Sorcerer Supreme responds, popping the p. “I’m well aware. No need to remind me.”

“He doesn’t even know Eddie is his!” 

“Correction: He doesn’t even know Eddie exists.” 

“Same difference. Whose fault is that?”

“It’s not mine!”

“That’s hard to believe.”

Stephen scoffs. “You act as if I don’t know it was a mistake.”

“No, no. The first time was a supposed mistake. The second time was on purpose because how could you mess it up a _second_ time?!” 

“Are you saying I knocked myself up on purpose??” 

“You slept with the man. Twice. _Unprotected_. Twice. You’re having his kid. Again. Vishanti, you brought the man back to life and risked your own at the cost but now are avoiding him like the plague! What is it with you? At this point, I think you’re still in love with him.”

“No, I _am not_ !” Stephen yells at full volume, slamming the cup down. The tea spills over onto the island, but he’s too furious to even think about it. “It was a mistake and I shouldn’t have done it but I _did_ ! There’s _nothing_ I can do about it now! He’s moved on and so have I, okay? I’m done! With him and with this conversation.”

Wong falls silent, surveying Stephen who is shaking from fury. Both men don’t speak, and the latter brings his shaking hands up to face, inhaling sharply. He cringes at the liquid on his hand.  
  


“Daddy?”

Both Stephen and Wong jump, but Stephen refuses to uncover his face and look at his son. Mostly out of shame. He just sits there, slouching on the stool as Wong turns to see Eddie in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a worksheet to his chest. 

“I need help,” He admits sheepishly, toeing the ground and looking rather ashamed to interrupt. Wong walks over to the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Why are you yelling?”

“Adult things. I’ll help you.” Wong states with no room for argument, and turns Eddie around to urge him back to the study room. Wong spares Stephen one last look before walking with his nephew. “Come on, we’ll do it together.” And with that, they leave Stephen alone in the kitchen.

All the anger seems to leave him in that instant, and he feels exhausted. Of course, he had to blow up at Wong. Now he feels sorry. For himself and for his actions. Unfortunately, his friend was right as much as Stephen would hate to admit it. But he couldn’t just bring himself to the truth staring right back at him with an ugly head. He’d hoped that he’d save Stark and move on, but everywhere Stephen tried to run, there was his face. There was his name. Mocking and haunting.

Tony fucking Stark. 

And Stephen Strange was in love with him. Just as Wong said.

  
  
  



	4. Im-pulse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clouded judgement will lead to clear consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Late Thanksgiving Angels! So this chapter I was super reluctant to release because I was like "Is this out of character? Damn, reading this over is pretty embarassing..." Like sometimes I get second hand embarrassment from reading my own stuff. Is that good? Is that bad? Thank you for the comments, kudos and etc!! I read them all. :)
> 
> Unbeta'd so mistakes probably. Also try not to cringe too hard - it gets better (or worse, no promises.) I'll try to keep the plot interesting but I'm trying to keep it mainly around Stephen's POV - which well be the recurring theme of this series. ( Not wanting to spoil but there's a Natasha, Peter and Wanda Wip. >>) 
> 
> So yeah! Enjoy! As always, kudos and comments are very appreciated. Love y'all so much!

His head pounded mercilessly.

Headaches were common when he carried Eddie in pregnancy, so he figured it would be the same with his second child. Still, there was no preparation or building up immunity to the strength of his headaches whenever they happened.

The Master of the Mystic Arts currently laid in his bedroom, all curtains pulled and the lights off to shield him from the world. It was pitiful. Some time ago, he finally opened his phone, something he barely used, and saw missed calls and texts from Pepper, Steve, Natasha, but he only responded to Natasha to let her know he was indeed alive.

Stephen sighs, shifting under his blankets and further curling in on himself. It had been a few hours since the whole ordeal with Wong and he hadn’t moved from his room since. It was sundown now from the telltale absence of sunlight streaming through the curtains.

He wanted to wallow in pity for preferably the rest of his life. Their reality was fake because of him, and he was in love with a married man who had a daughter. And technically a son, but he didn’t know that. Stephen had hoped one day Eddie would know because he himself grew up with two parents and to deprive his son of that experience felt cruel.

Wong was truly a blessing for stepping in as the Uncle role.

There’s a knocking at his door, and Stephen has to resist the urge to loudly and dramatically groan and curse at something because the sound agitates his head. However, the door opens and light streams in, prompting Stephen to pull the blanket over his head to block it out just to spare some of his sanity.

“Not in the mood,” he calls out but they come in anyway.

“Daddy, you didn’t eat yet so we bringed you food!” comes the unmistakable voice of his son, and then there’s Eddie jumping on him unexpectedly. He even laughs when Stephen gives an “oof!” because of the sudden weight. “Did we wake you, daddy? Were you sleeping? Are you that tired??”

“Edward, off your father,” Wong reprimands sharply as he walks into the room as well. The command brings a whine from Eddie especially at hearing his full middle name but he complies, slipping off Stephen just as the sorcerer pulls the cover from over his head and sits up.

Minding the quick scolding, Eddie is gluing himself to Stephen’s side once he’s sat up. “I sorry, but I miss-seded you! You slept in here a super long time.”

“More like sulked.” Wong corrects, setting down a tray of food in front of Stephen. “Don’t get used to this either. I’m only doing it for the little one while you’re being a dumbass.”

“Uncle Wong said a bad word!” Eddie says, pointing at the man while looking up at Stephen as if Wong had just offended their great ancestors. “That means- that means that he has to give up dessert for two weeks.” It’s amusing, but Stephen’s head is still killing him so he can’t truly enjoy it.

“Guess I will have to suffer the consequences of my wrong ways.” Wong sarcastically answers with a roll of his eyes. “Why don’t you go grab the drawing you made for him?” He asks Eddie, who sits there in confusion before smiling and scrambling off the bed to bolt out the room. It’s a miracle he narrowly avoids the tray in his rush.

Stephen feels a bit guilty, worrying them like this, and drops his gaze feeling Wong’s own on him. “Sorry,” Stephen says first. “For earlier.”

Wong shakes his head, crossing his arms. “Nevermind that. You have to tell him.” He cuts straight to the point, and it was so like Wong to never bullshit Stephen or allow him to fall into some bullshit. It’s the type of friend he needed.

“Which part?” Stephen says bitterly, pulling the tray closer. There’s a Tylenol and a bottle of water on there next to the plate of food which he’s immensely grateful for because how did Wong know? He immediately grabs the pill and downs it with the water, as Wong sighs in disappointment.

“If not the part where you’re still hung up on whatever you two shared, then at least the part that both Eddie and the new addition are his. He deserves that; Stark practically sacrificed his life for billions if not trillions across the universe. He took the force of all six infinity stones and lived even if you helped with that. A human man that is practically on his last stretch that’s been through hell and back! It’s only right.” Wong is right, as much as Stephen hates to admit it. He wanted Stark to know but wanted to have no involvement with the man ever again. The Universe really did hate him, it seemed.

Nor Wong or Stephen say anything else on the matter as they hear Eddie running back towards the room. The young boy presents the crayon drawing at the edge of the bed, showing a “My Dad is my Superhero” scribble in multiple colors with a stick figure Stephen assumes is him, blue robes and all. Even the Cloak of Levitation is right beside him. “We had to draw our favorite superheroes in school today, so I drew you! Tabitha drew Cap’n America and Joseph drew firefighters, but I wanted to draw you ‘cause you slept for five years in order to save the world and fight the bad purple man.”

Stephen has to fight the urge to cry because of damn hormones and pulls Eddie up onto the bed to engulf him in a hug. No, Stephen didn’t consider himself a hero, not like Iron Man or Black Widow, but if one thing he’d be a hero for it was for his son.

“It’s the best drawing I’ve ever seen,” Stephen admits, kissing Eddie’s forehead and taking the offered paper into his hand. “I’ll cherish and love it forever.”

“Really??” Eddie says, face lighting up even in the dim room with excitement.

“Really. Even when I’m old and cranky, I’ll look at this and think about how I have the best kid in the entire Universe. You’re the real hero, Eddie; You’re my hero.” Stephen says, smiling softly at the one he’d risk his life for. This was the best feeling in the world: Being a parent. It had its ups and downs and even though he wasn’t there for five years to experience some of his milestones, he’d make up for it. It was all for Eddie.

Wong smiles at the sight. Father and son. It was heartwarming. “You mean older and crankier.” He chuckles, before heading back to the open door. “Come now, Eddie. I have work to do and you need to get ready for bed. Let’s leave your father to eat and rest for now.”

“Rest again?? Are you that old??” Eddie asks, and Stephen nearly chokes on his own air.

“Who told you that??”

“Uncle Wong said your old ‘cause you have grey hairs.”

Stephen glares at up Wong, who looks mildly annoyed at being caught out. “Did he? Well, tell him that it takes a lot of energy to be this great and protect the Cosmos. At least I have amazing hair.” He says, speaking as if it were a secret but well aware that Wong could hear. “And next time he calls me old, you have my permission to slap his head. I bet it has a real nice echo to it.”

“Doctor Strange, everyone,” Wong announces, to no one in particular as both Stephen and Eddie go down in snickers. “Master of the Mystic Arts and a horrible influence on children. A shame that such potential is wasted. All my years of hard work and training are wasted.”

Eddie slips out of the bed as Wong goes on, and Stephen has to roll his eyes. “Stop saying I’m a bad influence when you’re the one cursing around my kid.”

“Oooh...he got you,” Eddie says, looking up at Wong and laughing at the deadpan expression his uncle gives. The boy grabs hold of Wong’s hand, saying in a sing-song voice, “He got you~ That’s one point for Daddy and none for Uncle Wong!”

It’s all Stark, Stephen can clearly see. Some of Stephen, but both of them are snarky.

“We’ll see who my favorite nephew is in around 7 months,” Wong says, and it’s so specific that it flies over Eddie’s head as they both head out of the room to leave Stephen to his own.

The sorcerer looks down at Eddie’s drawing, and it sends another wave of warmth down into him. He was his son’s hero...And Stephen wasn’t a typical hero. His son was braver than him in every way. And Wong was right - he needed to at least reach out to the Starks even if he didn’t want to. It was the right, reasonable thing to do and there was only one to start.

Stephen takes his phone and dials the number belonging to Mrs. Pepper Potts.

It begins ringing, and instant regret feels the sorcerer to the brim as he tries to find the right words to say in so little time. What if she didn’t pick up? What if she didn’t want to talk to him anymore, deciding to give up the hopeless act? It technically was his fault.

The line clicks through after three rings and her smooth voice is heard clearly through the line. _“This is Pepper Stark speaking.”_

It’s so formal and so clipped that Stephen didn’t expect it - it almost prompted him to just hang up the call right away. But it’s just nerves talking, and he has to remind himself to think about Eddie. “Uh..hi, this is Dr. Strange.” He finally forces out, and it’s like he doesn’t even recognize his own voice.

_“Oh- Oh my god, Stephen, hi-”_

“Hi,” Stephen relaxes almost instantly even if he’s not fully sure why.

_“I’m- wow, I wasn’t expecting you to call me- how are you feeling?”_

He gives a sharp inhale, pushing down the bile of guilt building in his throat. “Better. I have to apologize for worrying all of you.”

_“No, no, please. Don’t apologize. You just honestly scared us at first.”_

She laughs, sounding more relaxed as well. Stephen smiles faintly and looks down at his free hand in his lap. “It’s been hard...dealing with everything that’s happened and adjusting to the current year. I have no excuse for pushing everyone around me away but if you’re still willing, could we meet up? Anywhere is honestly fine; The Sanctum, a coffee shop…”

_“Would you mind coming to the lake house?”_

Stephen pauses, breath hitching at that idea. However, Pepper continues, “ _Tony and Morgan won’t be here. They’re taking Peter on a field trip to the zoo because Tony is a stubborn man and the “zoo doesn’t require much activity”. That, and Morgan wants to see the animals.”_

And he’s brutally reminded that Stark is her husband, something that shouldn’t hurt him as much, but the sound of him not being at the house sounds a bit better. Would he be considered a homewrecker? The mistress that comes up unexpectedly to try and tear the family apart? It feels like it now, and he can’t help but feel even worse. “If I’m not intruding…”

 _“No, never! I promise. You’re my guest and I’m inviting you here on my own will.”_ She reassures.

It does settle his nerves a bit, but nothing could help the anxiety about talking to Pepper. This is what he wanted right? Clarity and a chance to move on? There was no way he could take this to the grave with him now.

Well, he could, but Wong would revive him just for that. And to be an asshole.

Stephen remembers that he actually had to answer Pepper and rushes to say, “Right, right. Whenever you’d like me to arrive is fine.”

_“Are you free tomorrow at eight am? Sorry if it’s a bit early, but that’s when Tony and Morgan will be out and I suspect they’ll be back with Peter around noon for lunch.”_

“Yeah, eight is fine. Eddie has school at that time.”

“ _Alright_ ,” Stephen can practically hear the smile in her voice. “ _He’s a lovely boy by the way. I met him a couple times meeting with Wong, and he looks just like you - the two of you have a beautiful mix of vibrant green and then sea blue.”_

“Thank you,” While he wasn’t expecting the compliment on his eyes, he still took it. The sorcerer switches the phone to give his hand a break, and pulls the tray closer. “As grateful as I am for Wong raising him in my absence, I still wish that I would’ve been here for him. He’s been alive more than I’ve been with him.”

And frankly, Thanos had been quite a surprise. Having the unexpected appearance of Dr. Banner then the ship with Stark and the child then searching all the possible futures where they win wasn’t how he expected his day to go. And it was a risk - especially in his condition. One, he was willing to take.

He’s a horrible person.

“ _It’s not your fault_ ,” Pepper reassures, but it feels as if Stephen has heard that enough. From Steve, from Wong, from Christine… And now Pepper. It was going to drive him mad. “ _And I know what you’re thinking: I’m just repeating what everyone else is telling you. No, Stephen. I can hear you thinking over the phone. Stop it. I have to go now and reel in my family from catching lightning bugs outside but promise me you won’t chicken out tomorrow. Or else I’ll come find you myself_.”

It sounds like a threat- no, it is a threat. One Stephen is not planning on seeing if she’ll follow through to it. There was a reason Wong and her got along: No nonsense at all.

“Yes ma’am.” Stephen responds, having to suppress the eye roll even if she couldn’t see it. It felt as if she would and then really come to retrieve him.

_“Har har. Tomorrow at eight am.”_

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

_“Better not. Bye, Stephen.”_

Stephen mutters a goodbye and hangs up the phone. A moment of regret passes through him before he ultimately swallows it down, sighing and trying to calm that inner doubt apart of him. It would be fine - and this could be the closure and hope for him to move on.

The wave of nausea flipping in his stomach turns away the desire to eat, but Stephen knows he has to at least digest something. Maybe it would calm his nerves to do so and be distracted for the time being, counting down until tomorrow.

Besides, running would get him nowhere and he didn’t want to keep this on his chest forever. It would go well, he knew it.

*

This was not going to go well and Stephen didn’t know why he even thought so.

“Bye, dad!” Eddie barrels into Stephen, wrapping his arms around his waist in a hug. “After school, we go to the park, right?”

“Given you act nice in class.” Stephen responds, slightly bending down to properly hug Eddie the best he could with the small child attached at his hip. “Then we’ll see.”

Eddie looks up at Stephen with a pout. “I do act good! Everyday. Miss Humphrey says that I’m her goodest student. She gives me candies when I answer cause I’m smart.”

“Well, don’t brag too much. Just enough to make the other kids jealous,” Stephen jokingly says with a wink, kissing Eddie’s forehead just as the boy releases him and rushes back over to Wong. The other sorcerer is shooting him a glare - but then again, when is he not?

“What??”

“I’ll be back.” Wong simply says, not responding to the question as he opens the front door (it wasn't appropriate to teleport in front of other children who can be easily spooked apparently) and walks out with Eddie bouncing behind him. His Iron Man themed backpack bounces right along with him. It’s ironic and mockingly, but Stephen doesn’t comment on it - hasn’t actually, ever since discovering it when he first came back. Wong apparently got it for him.

Bastard.

A quick look at the clock shows him that there’s only 15 minutes until eight on the dot, and the nervousness settles low in Stephen’s stomach. There was no way that he could go through with this.

Right on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. And a quick look at that as well shows a text from Pepper’s number simply stating “Can’t wait to meet you formally.” And it’s freakish how the timing was uncanny. Maybe she was just sending reassurance or maybe Pepper was some other worldly being who was all knowing and just wanted to play with Stephen’s mind.

The Sanctum feels like a hollow place as he stands there, listening to the tick of the clock. The air is stifling as he inhales sharply through his nose before turning to ascend the stairwell.

Thankfully, there haven’t been any large mystic threats to the Universe ever since Thanos, and Stephen is immensely grateful. That didn’t mean he could slack from his duties, however, and he must be constantly on watch. It was a risk keeping a child in the Sanctum foremost, and it was even more of a risk to have two. The Ancient One couldn’t have foreseen this, or she would’ve stopped it right at the ugly rearing of its head.

Stephen pauses right at the top of the stairwell, sighing. God, he royally fucked up. He didn’t deserve the title of Sorcerer Supreme.

There’s a faint pressure building in the back of his head, and Stephen curses, bringing his hand up to rub at the back of his neck. He couldn’t deal with another headache.

He should think of something to say when he got to the Stark family lakehouse. It wouldn’t be appropriate to come up empty handed. Pepper most likely already had a list of things she’s been wanting to say since he saved Stark’s life, and Stephen is already dreading those words.

Thank you for saving his life. You’re a hero.

Maybe he was being irrational and unfair. The woman was almost a widow, left with only a daughter in this world if it hadn’t been for Stephen’s selfish desire. Everyone was affected by this - and yet the fight never ended.

The sorcerer makes his way into his room, dressing out of the casual jacket and sweatpants and into his formal Master of the Mystic Arts attire. Just from looking down, he can make out the slight swell right under his naval where his second child is growing and it’s enough to make him mumble a curse out loud.

This is real.

Still, he makes a mental note to text Christine later and have a real ultrasound later unlike the nonconsensual one he reportedly received in the hospital - which is still bullshit if you ask him. He’s downright furious about it.

Once he’s finished dressing, because he can’t stand to look at his midsection any longer, Stephen grabs his sling ring and dons it over his scarred fingers. Pepper texted her address yesterday shortly after the call, and Wong had shown him a picture of the house so he knew what to picture.

“How the hell do you have a picture of their house?”

“Pepper asked me for a picture just in case she wanted to makeover the exterior a couple of years ago.”

“That is...frankly weird as hell. And you kept it??”

“It slipped my mind.”

And he said it with all sincerity. Stephen had stared at Wong for a good ten minutes afterwards, because the man was dead serious about it. Didn’t even move to delete the picture.

Stephen teleports down to the bottom of the main staircase, which is an instant mistake due to the wave of nausea hitting him like a piece of moon. The brunet grabs the stair railing, bending over and willing himself not to puke all over the floor. Vishanti, how he would hate that the following months. Was this how Thor felt that one time?

Once the wave passes, Stephen stands and fixes his attire, looking at the clock. Time seemed to be taunting him for it moved impossibly slow, and he didn’t want to arrive early and risk catching the one he’s worked so hard to avoid now. Okay, maybe he was being a bit childish but in his defense…

Yeah, he had no defense.

Five minutes left, moving dangerously slow as he watches it and tries to will himself to calm down. A comforting weight settles onto his shoulders - the cloak - and he faintly smiles to himself, feeling the edges of the collars gently nudge at his jaw. If no one else, then he could always rely on the Cloak.

Three minutes.

He shouldn’t be so nervous to meet with someone. Pepper had already witnessed him having a panic attack - that should pass all formalities, shouldn’t it? Stephen shouldn’t sweat it.

Two minutes.

It would be fine.

One.

Stephen raises his hands, picturing the house in mind - still weird, Wong - and conjuring a portal in a matter of seconds. Just like the picture, the portal opens right in the location it was taken at an angle of the driveway on the grass. His heart leaps at the sight, but there’s no turning back now.

He steps through onto the grass, the fresh scent of nature hitting him as he takes in the surroundings. It did look cozy, he would admit. It wasn’t the cozy atmosphere of the Sanctum and felt very open and exposed; at least to Stephen it did.

The lake is to his left with the dock mocking out to him in a mourning song. The funeral is repeated before his very eyes. Yet, he refuses to allow himself to be overtaken by such thoughts right now. Stephen closes the before and takes one last deep breath then walks up to the house.

The sorcerer knocks on the door, looking around for the seconds that pass in silence before there’s the sound of movement on the other side. Light footsteps announce her presence before a lock unclicks and the door reveals in all her glory Pepper Potts. Well, Stark.

Stark is such a Juggernaut name, and it was very fitting for her to inherit it and proudly sport it.

“Dr. Strange, right on time!” She exclaims, unlocking the screen door and pushing it open just as Stephen backs up and takes the outdoor handle.

“Well, I’m not usually the one to slack off for deadlines. And just Stephen, please.”

Pepper shoots him a knowing smirk before stepping back and allowing Stephen in the house.

The first smell that greets him is oddly cinnamon spice, and it overwhelms him to the point where he’s mildly nauseated from it. It’s neat, besides a few scattered toys he knows belongs to Morgan and there’s a couch pillow on the floor.

“Sorry for the mess. Tony and Morgan just left and I thought I told her to clean up.”

Stephen makes a nonchalant wave with his hand, taking a few more steps in and further intaking more detail of the house. The Cloak lifts off his shoulders, staying by the door for formalities but always nearby. “Please, I’ve been back for not even a month and this is nothing compared to Eddie after any sweet. It’s like a literal hurricane runs through the Sanctum.”

Pepper snorts, moving swiftly past Stephen to pick up a few discarded toys. “Really? Every time I’ve met him, he’s so quiet. Like a ghost, almost. You won’t even notice he’s there at times.”

Eddie? His Eddie? She must be joking. Then again - it’s Pepper. And Wong was raising him for the most part so it makes sense. It feels like a tiny stab to the chest that he didn’t even feel like he knew his own child.

“I guess so,” Stephen says, figuring he should answer Pepper. He feels a bit awkward just standing there as she adjusts the living room, but forces the feeling down his throat. Every instinct in him is screaming to leave and never look back, but Stephen Vincent Strange was not a coward.

Once Pepper is finished, she turns back to him with a welcoming smile on her lips. “Is there anything I can make for you? Tea...coffee...water…”

“Do you have ginger tea?”

Pepper nods, and sets the final pillow on the recliner. “Coming right up.”

“And some tylenol too. I feel a headache coming on.” Stephen brings his hands up to rub at his temples. The pressure at the back of his head crawled up and he would no longer be able to focus if it escalated. Pepper gives him a sympathetic look and moves into the kitchen without another word. He’s almost grateful for it.

Stephen hesitantly moves to sit on the further right end of the couch, noting the fireplace and pictures situated right above it. There’s one he can clearly see: A toddler Morgan with her chubby hands placed in Stark- no, Tony’s palms as he guides her to walk. They looked so much alike, it was crazy. He hasn’t met Morgan, but figured she must’ve gained all her mom’s personality alongside her dad’s looks. Had it been the other way around, hell would have been raised.

Probably not, but he can just see it.

Stephen rests his elbow on the couch arm, resting his head in one hand and forcing himself to breathe. It wouldn’t do any good to have another panic attack right in Pepper’s house.

The strawberry blonde walks back into the living room. “The water is on the stove,” She says, and then places a paper towel with two tylenols on the coffee table in front of him, alongside a water bottle. Bless her soul.

“Thanks,” Stephen halfway mumbles, and reaches forward to immediately down the two and guzzle it with water. Silence follows, choking the confidence out of him as Pepper rests herself on the recliner, drawing her legs up and hugging the pillow to her body. She’s so relaxed, unlike Stephen - and he’s sure his tense frame can be seen crystal clear.

Hopefully she doesn’t get the wrong idea.

“I’ll go first,” Pepper clears her throat, locking eyes with Stephen. “I know that you probably don’t want to hear the words and I won’t force you to...but if I could ask and I hope you don’t mind me doing so...but why?”

Stephen shifts uncomfortably sitting up and moving his hands to his lap. “Why what?”

Pepper’s expression tightens, and she’s probably searching him to see if he was playing dumb. “Why don't you like to be thanked?”

It’s a good question, one that Stephen can’t even fully answer himself. His ego would’ve loved it before this whole ordeal, would’ve soaked it up like a sponge easily. There would be no false humble and modest act - except it wasn’t even that. A self deprecative motive, or something like it, as Stephen knows he’d rather take the harsh words of the world than the appreciative.

What happened to the once arrogant doctor he was? Well, Stephen still was that man - but he wasn’t a doctor anymore.

“I…” Stephen begins, but trails off, dropping his gaze. It feels like she’s trying to chip away at his walls, but he won’t let her. It’s supposed to be formal and short, talk it out like adults and move on. That was his plan.

And Pepper, bless her, she doesn’t push him but lets him sit there in silence. Even as a few minutes pass, her relaxed posture doesn’t change nor does her face cloud with judgement. Stephen eventually found himself releasing tension inch by inch until he sinks into the couch ever so slightly.

“I don’t deserve it.” He admits, finally looking back up at Pepper. “After everything, and knowing the only outcome of the battle yet still…”

Her eyes slightly shine with a mist of sorrow. “You had no choice.”

“I did. If I hadn’t done what I did then…”

“There was no other way and yet you defied the odds. And you think you should be punished for that.”

Damnit. She’s too good. Well, it’s not like it takes a rocket scientist to figure it out. Stephen grabs a throw pillow, hugging to his midsection. Nevertheless, he hated the vulnerability - the exposure. It made him further put walls up and become more...defensive in a way that pushes away people and ends relationships. It happened with Christine. He hated being weak and having his strengths stripped from him in a blink of an eye. Opening up could be hard with the wrong people, but it’s good that he was able to confide in Natasha and Steve so far. Progress.

Pepper takes his silence as agreement, playing with the edge of the pillow. “You know, Tony was like that. Guilty. After Ultron, he was convinced it was his fault and that he wasn’t worthy of being called a hero. And then the Accords happened and the fall out of the Avengers...it was the worst I’ve ever seen him.” She pauses, looking around the living room. “Even after the Snap, his guilt was so overwhelming. He didn’t feel deserving of life.”

Stephen knew. He knew because he saw that too. In a failed timeline, Tony takes his life and the final snap never happens. The remaining Avengers dispersed. He didn’t speak of that timeline nor even dared to think about it.

“Even after I found out I was pregnant-”

Stephen flinches.

“-he didn’t feel as if he deserved a second chance at happiness. But Morgan was born and it gave him a reason to get back up. Stephen...we won. You won. Billions are saved across the Universe and we did that.”

Stephen can’t help the scoff that leaves his lips. “Tony is the one that snapped and Natasha sacrificed her life for the Soul Stone. The Avengers physically went back in time to retrieve the stones in the first place not to mention Tony again invented Time Travel.” Though, Stephen could easily do that with the stone - but Tony did it on his own.

“Who opened the portals for the final battle in the first place?” Pepper counters, and continues before Stephen can rebut. “Who saved not one but two people from literal death and went against the one future he thought he saw? Who gave up an Infinity Stone so that it could be possible in the first place??”

Stephen looks over at Pepper, clenching his jaw before eventually sagging down. “Obligated actions taken for survival of the Universe.”

“You sound like an automated robot, and I live with three.” Pepper snorts, moving from the recliner to sit next to Stephen but still give him space. “Stephen, please. You’ve gotta stop beating yourself up and allow yourself to feel human emotion. You didn’t save Tony and Natasha because you were “obligated” to. Am I right?”

Stephen tenses, looking over at Pepper who is searching him. Silence passes between the two before the slight sound of whistling greets them - and Stephen is grateful for the interruption.

Pepper gets up to walk into the kitchen, and Stephen rubs his face over in frustration. She was too damn good. It only confirms his theory she’s a god that has come down to play with them all. There’s only a few precious minutes of solitary before she’s returned with steeping tea placed on a tea plate. In her other hand is a small cup full of sugar cubes and a mini spoon just situated right in the middle of her palm, balanced expertly.

When she places the items in front of the sorcerer, he hesitates before taking it, once again mumbling a small thanks as he fixes the tea with only one cube of sugar - he didn’t like it that much sweet.

And Pepper is quiet, moving back onto the other side of the couch. Was she waiting for him to say something? Letting her knife words sink in and mess with his head until he broke? No, she wasn’t getting through. He didn’t trust her enough.

Or was it something else?

“I know you and Tony used to have a fling.”

Stephen chokes on the tea, quite literally because it’s hot and the full force of her words slapping him in the face and then impaling a spear through his head. It feels like he was dipped in ice cold water and then electrocuted, all feeling leaving his body as Stephen nearly drops the tea into his lap. Every fiber of him is yelling run, run, run, run, she knows, she knows, she knows!

How did she know?? Did Tony tell her? Did Wong tell her? Did she pull a Natasha and just piece it together? Or was she truly some omniscient being??

Pepper senses his panic and holds out her hands. “Hey, it’s okay! I’m not mad I promise-”

“I’m so sorry-” Stephen forces out in between coughs to clear his chest of the threatening pressure and the liquid that slipped down the wrong pipe.

“Don’t apologize-!”

“It was a one time thing-”

“Stephen. Breathe. Okay? Let me explain-”

“You don’t need to pretend you aren’t mad-”

“We were broken up!” Pepper says. “At the time. I was the one that put it off. Said that we needed a break. To see other people. You did nothing wrong.”

It’s weird. It feels intrusive, and Stephen still can’t shake the creeping anxiety that settles low in his gut. He’s never really heard this side of the story seven years ago. All he remembered was Tony showing up on his doorstep one day, and the rest was a forbidden dream to him. “Then why mention it?” He bites with a little more force than usual. “Shit. I’m sorry. That came out wrong.” He has to force himself to relax, trembling grip on the teacup even more noticeable now.

“You’re fine. And I only mention it because of what I said earlier. You didn’t feel obligated to like you said earlier, but out of your own heart. If you guys need to talk it out or something…”

And if she’s this smart, then Stephen knows it’s only a short amount of time before she finds out things he didn’t even want to fully come to terms with yet.

“It’s hard to see someone you were once in love with die. Once you have that connection, it never really goes away. There’s still something there, isn’t it?”

Stephen pauses for a heartbeat before letting out a firm, “No. There’s not.”

“Stephen...”

“It died a long time ago. Yes, we...had a fling,” And he cringes even hearing the words come out his mouth. “But I couldn’t keep him. Never planned to. I knew he belonged to someone else.” It sounds as if Tony is an object to be passed around, but the soulmate theory isn’t completely false. Everyone’s heart belongs to someone but not everyone will find that someone.

How Pepper didn’t even show an amount of disgust right now is beyond him. The whole atmosphere made Stephen feel uncomfortable out of his mind and it’s taking every ounce of self control he has to not book it back to the Sanctum and lock down for the next fifty years.

“I saved him not for myself but for you. And your daughter. Maybe it’s a cruel thing to do: Not grant someone the peace of death after so much pain. But I couldn’t put you through that. I was the one to recruit him in the first place.” Stephen looks down at the cup of tea, which has cooled off a bit and wills himself to drink. Pepper made it for him and he didn’t want to waste it. “And then I felt immensely guilty, and saved Natasha somehow as well. It’s not a romantic connection, maybe a platonic one I’m willing to admit.” And even that killed his ego a bit.

Maybe his motives were twisted a bit. Pepper wanted to find out why and he couldn’t give her a straight answer. Hadn’t been able to give Natasha one either. Everyone wants to know the why but Stephen is asking that himself more often than not.

“Stephen…”

“I swear I’m not in love with your husband.”

“No, not that.” Pepper’s eyes are boring into his, as if trying to see through every wall and bolted door. “What’s holding you back?”

“What?”

“From moving on.”

Stephen tightens his hold on the cup and sips from it instead of answering. Short and professional. Short and sweet.

“I want to help you.” Pepper reaches out, placing a hand on Stephen’s arm. “Please. It’s the least I can do for you. If you won’t let me thank you, then promise me you will just let me or anyone in. The battle is over - there’s no need for defense. What’s holding you back?”

“I have to go.” Stephen cuts off, setting the tea cup down and fixing the throw pillow back in its place. It was too much - too intrusive. And like the coward he was, Stephen was fleeing. He stands abruptly, as Pepper looks on in shock. “I’m sorry and it was lovely but I can’t stay-”

_“Are you okay?”_

_Stephen doesn’t look up from the words of his book, but does pause in his reading, feeling his concentration break. Taking a second to process the question, he shifts in his chair and continues. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” It comes out a bit more monotone and guarded than usual, even to his ears._

_“You look tense.”_

_“What?” Stephen asks, looking up from the book and over at Tony who is on his phone scrolling over something. “What is that supposed to mean?”_

_“See! That. You’re too tense and nearly all the time. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh or get angry or something like that. Hell, I’ve seen more emotion from a rock.”_

_“I get angry plenty of times.”_

_“No, no. Whatever that blank stare of death you got is, that’s not anger. That’s...bottled up polite British shit. Okay? I’ve seen a total of three expressions from you.”_

_“Thank you for your words of wisdom, Mr. I hole myself up in a lab to prevent anyone else when I’m the slightest upset like a Drama Queen.”_

_Tony looks mildly offended, and it’s enough to drop the sarcastic mood from Stephen as a flash of an apology crosses his face._

_“You know if you’re ever going through it, you can just tell me. I’m not the best but,” The engineer fiddles with his phone. The sorcerer doesn’t even know where this originated from. Was he even upset?_

_Stephen inhales slowly before lowering the book down to the desk. “I’m not upset right now. What brought this on?”_

_“Are we not, y’know,” Tony moves his hand in a gesture Stephen isn’t really sure of. “You get this pinch in your face when you’re upset or stressed, I noticed. People in relationships care about that kinda stuff.”_

_They were in a relationship? Stephen doesn’t voice that question though, looking over at Tony before dropping his gaze down back to the desk. The mechanic continues._

_“You hardly relax, ever. It’s kind of funny when you walk around high and mighty with a stick in your ass but the only time I ever see you loosened up is when you’re sleeping. And I’ve seen you smile but just...nevermind, forget it.” Tony goes back to whatever on his phone, but now Stephen is more puzzled than ever._

_He was more than capable of emotion, so then how was he so tense? He didn’t even realize he was doing so. Afraid of showing emotion and being brokenhearted? Or knowing the inevitable was to come? Tony has only been with him for around a month and Stephen has an illusion the two of them together - a faint dream that will never be reality. And yet his subconscious knows the truth. Opening up was hard, and a bite into territory he didn’t want to wander in._

_Stephen places a bookmark into his place and closes the book, standing from his desk and walking over to the lounging couch Tony sat at. He cuddles into the heat of the other man, wrapping his arm around the billionaire’s torso and pulling him closer. Tony is tense at first but eventually relaxes into his hold._

Stephen wasn’t a robot. He could feel emotion. Plenty of it, actually. Like right now, grief and sorrow at what he knew he had to do. He didn’t close himself off to prevent heartbreak, because he already had experienced it.

Stephen was enraptured with Tony the first moment they met at that Gala years ago. Through news articles, pictures, segments, everything about him radiated power and confidence. And now that Stephen had him, he wanted to keep him but he couldn’t.

It was a taste of freedom, being in love, but Stephen couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have Christine either. The accident proved that.

He wasn’t the one for Tony. Only one could fit that position but oh how Stephen wished for such a world to exist. So he’d bury it in the back of his mind and take it to the grave with him. He’d bear a thousand scars on his heart for Tony to be happy - that wasn’t possible with him.

Stephen wasn’t capable of that.

He thought he’d die with it. That his love would die but it only came to haunt him and then drive a stake through his heart in the form of Eddie.

He couldn’t have Tony, but he could have a small part of him gifted from the Universe like scraps to a dog.

And then the snap happened.

He’s taken away from Eddie but then returned with another silver of Tony like broken shards of a mirror. And Stephen is left with bloody hands and a jagged reflection of his own mistakes and past haunting him. And everytime the Universe punishes him, it gives him a twisted gift as if saying “congrats, you survived.”

So what was holding him back?

Himself.

It’s not a mystery or a riddle. It’s a fact, staring right back at him.

Stephen sinks back down to the couch, staring but unseeing at the fireplace. He can sense Pepper’s nervous and unsure energy radiating next to him, but now, Stephen has to dig up the knife and finish the job. She offered for him to move on and close the connection, but was that even possible? Not with Tony but with her alone.

“When you two broke up, six years ago, we got together...but I knew I couldn’t have him and I let him go.” He thought he was doing the right thing. Was he? Everything feels clouded and as if a heavy fog is setting on his head. “I sent him back to you because there’s no one in the cosmos that’s more perfect for him.”

Failure. Failure. Failure.

Please don’t have another panic attack.

Stephen was tired of being tied to his past, but didn’t want to let go of the memories. Didn’t want them to drown in the endless sea of black abyss of the forgotten. “I…” He wouldn't admit he still loved Tony. Not her husband - not the father of her child. “But then one year later, before Thanos…” He wants to say it outloud - wants to drive the knife through the heart and kill the ugly truth that’s been haunting him this whole time.

But he is still holding himself back.

Stephen wants to feel something. He does. Granted, he’s happy when he’s around Eddie. He’s happy that he has this chance to get to know his son once more - but it still feels like he’s dead.

Feelings were complex. Dealing with the aftermath of Thanos on top of everything seemed to be a math puzzle that was unsolvable and yet it was right under his nose. “I don’t know how to process it all. I don’t...I don’t know how to cope.”

He buries his face into his hands, a thousand emotions running through him and mind going a mile a second. There’s a few seconds of silence before Pepper moves forward and wraps her arms around him in a hug. It’s comforting, grounding, and Stephen welcomes it.

And Stephen had to pretend he was fine. The Master of the Mystic Arts must be prepared for anything and everything and be a quicker thinker and yet still can’t even process what happened years ago. Hasn’t put it to rest. Hasn’t…

And yet I still can’t believe that...

“I’m pregnant.”

The words slip out before he even has a chance to control it, a careful yet careless whisper. He tenses, and so does Pepper but she quickly recovers and holds him tighter. And somehow, that’s what breaks the dam as Stephen’s eyes quickly well with tears and spill over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” He mutters over and over.

And Pepper shushes him, moves her hand to run through his hair in a comforting manner.

He hasn’t even felt this exposed with Christine- this broken down.

He cries into Pepper for a bit longer, and sometime in it she adjusted him around for his head to recline on her shoulder. It’s only when his sobs die down into quiet sniffles does she wipe his tears and rest her head on top of his.

“Are you...transgender?”

He shakes his head.

She’s silent, and he can hear the gears turning. “Magic?”

He shakes his head once more.

“So a female reproductive system?”

A nod.

She’s shocked at it, but doesn’t dwell on it too much. He doesn’t tell many of course. “And it’s Tony’s.” Not a question, but Stephen still gives a small nod. “And that would mean…” she doesn’t voice it, but Stephen knows she does the mental math in her head to add up Eddie as well. A few moments of silence pass before she speaks again.

“How far?”

“15 weeks.” He mumbles into her shoulder, and Pepper does the math really quickly because she hums.

“Three weeks ago, Five years and some two months… Huh.” She doesn’t even mention the fact that it wasn’t only once but twice they got together, and Stephen doesn’t know whether to be thankful or worry.

It’s quiet in the living room, but Pepper does not move back.

“I hope you forgive me for this - being intrusive - but sometimes we have to face our past before we move forward. We can’t let it hang over our shoulder hoping it’ll go away someday. Stephen, I’m not mad at all. It’s...off putting, yes, and frankly hard to wrap my head around but if you think I’m letting you go now, you’re mistaken. You...You fought Thanos while pregnant?!”

Stephen flinches back at Pepper’s sudden yelling, as she pulls back to look at him with an incredulous look. “Please tell me you didn’t!”

It’s relieving and surprising how well she’s taking this but oh god, Stephen didn’t want to talk about that part. At all.

“I will not answer that outloud.” Stephen says, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. “Please don’t tell him. Not yet. I’ll find a way in due’s time.”

He would. He had to promise himself. He wants to let go of the frustration and the guilt and just keep being an arrogant son of a bitch to Wong while raising his son at the same time. Would he have another boy? Or maybe this time would be a girl? Would Stephen risk having two children at the Sanctum or give the child to someone better suited to raise them (that thought is immediately shot down).

He can’t return to the past, so he wants to make the future better. It seemed the whole Thanos ordeal made him realize that there was only so little in his control even with an infinity stone in his hold. Watching Tony almost die after losing him twice hurt but Stephen couldn’t lose him a third time.

“...Did you carry Eddie too?”

Stephen gives a slow nod, “Yep, and my ribs were bruised after it.”

Pepper huffs a laugh at that one. “Morgan treated my organs like her playing field and I was up for hours with her because she wouldn’t damn sleep and Tony made it worse on purpose.”

“Is it a Stark baby thing or do our kids just hate us?”

“Both, definitely both.” Pepper snorts, before full out laughing. It feels Stephen’s chest with warmth and he chuckles a bit as well. From being validated or finally putting this weight off his shoulder, he doesn’t know but it feels much lighter. “You’re going to hate these next several months.”

All Stephen can do is roll his eyes with a faint smile and yeah, he knows. “Joy.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone.”

The mood sobers a bit, and Stephen looks over at Pepper who has nothing but genuine care in her eyes. Not an ounce of hate or judgement or anything of that nature and it confuses Stephen. How did she do that?

“Does anyone else know?” Pepper asks.

“Wong does, but that’s it. I just found out myself- well, I knew but I thought… With all the stress and fighting, it’s a miracle we survived. Especially after being snapped.” And Stephen didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he lost the baby. Yes, he knew the risks and were willing to take them for the Universe. Did that make him a bad person?

Pepper hums again, before moving to face forward and run a hand through her hair. Stephen understands, because it’s a lot to deal with in such little time. Pepper probably didn’t even want to talk about this in the start - but it’s a lot off Stephen’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry I’m still…”

“I get it.”

Pepper side eyes him with a sympathetic look, before standing and moving to pace, rubbing her hands together. All the while, Stephen stays seated, watching her with the best neutral expression he can.

“...Is that the reason you didn’t want to be bothered?” She stops pacing, turning to Stephen with a now unreadable expression. That was dangerous, and immediately shot Stephen’s own defenses back up. It was as if she were trying to interrogate him and he had to tread lightly with his words.

“No,” Stephen answers slowly at first. “I’m not an Avenger, and I still have my duties to attend as Sorcerer Supreme. I have my own life.”

“You’re trying to shut people out.”

“Just because I don’t make an effort to reach out to others?”

Pepper scoffs in disbelief. “You’re hurting, Stephen! Can’t you see that??”

He could, plain and clear. He hated it with every fiber of his being but then again, it’s hard to let go of the past he so desperately wanted to leave behind. “Why do you care so much?” He asks in a monotone voice, because he hadn’t even met Pepper before this. Why was he of such significance?

Pepper is quiet for a minute, before answering, “You saved Tony, and I want to save you. I want to help - to be there. Please, it’s the least I can do.”

And Stephen doesn’t understand why she would go out of her way for such a small thing. He was fine for the most part, but maybe he could swallow his pride and let go. It was like she said, to move on was to let go of the past and even now - no more obsessing over his mistakes.

“Everyone has to confide in someone,” Pepper continues, bringing Stephen’s attention over to her. “These past five years haven’t been easy and it’s gonna take some adjusting for those who have suffered. And everyone has suffered from this.” She sits back down on the couch, hesitating reaching for Stephen’s hands and taking them into her own when he doesn't pull away. “You have a beautiful son who has waited for you for so long and now that you’re here, you can’t allow yourself to waste away…”

Pepper is right. He practically defied the Universe for Eddie. His son who waited five years for him to return so that they could be together. The poor boy who still suffered nightmares from witnessing his Aunt being snapped as a baby. Stephen would give his life just for the boy to have a chance at normalcy.

And so, he nods, slowly releasing the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Frankly, he couldn’t heal alone and Stephen knew he had to be there for the Universe once more and show he was the rightful holder of the title Master of the Mystic Arts. But not only that: He wanted to be there for his kids.

Five years was a lot to miss and it’s only been three weeks settling into the new world. He could survive - he could. Stephen has died plenty of times before, and he was still living. And as Pepper moves to hug him once more, he reciprocates it happily. He’d figure out a plan soon enough but for now, Stephen would have to confront his past in order to let go. And that meant facing the music he’s tried so hard to tune out.

It was time.


	5. Play It Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And just like that. In the middle of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Emetophobia - throwing up. Be wary. 
> 
> Celebrating 1000 reads!!! Woohoo!!! Chapter published early!!!
> 
> Fun fact, actually sad fact, I put this in the drafts along with Chapter 4 and almost published it early but had to hold myself back. Also man, oh man, it seems to keep getting worse for our resident sorcerer. 
> 
> And if you're asking "Why is this smart man who was once a great surgeon now Master of the Mystic Arts being a colossal dumbass, whiny crybaby?" Well, unresolved feelings can lead to emotional tension and problems in that aspect. Also being in love hurts. And I'm sure pregnancy has a play in it too. Just wanted to clear that up! I'm not dumbing down any characters. Superheroes can gain trauma and issues - it's not all save the day and be happy.
> 
> I finished my first half of my freshman college year!! Woohoo! Now I have to continue writing the next chapter (after the next one purely because I have them in stock). Anyways, enjoy!

The sound of retching echoes through the bathroom, sounding like poison to his ears.

Vishanti, Stephen missed three days ago when his morning sickness was still idle. But now, it was as if his body actually remembered to kick him in the ass daily and engaged “Operation Make Stephen Miserable 2.0.”

He didn’t throw up a lot in the time he was stuck at the toilet, since he didn’t eat too much for dinner the day before. That in of itself was a result of having no appetite the past couple days. It sucked, because in addition it zapped his energy like crazy but overall, he’s managed himself well.

All it accomplishes is just reminding Stephen that indeed this was real.

Time was such a fucked up thing.

Seriously? His baby was conceived five fucking years ago and they’re still younger than kids born within that timeframe. Were all expecting moms feeling this way?

“Hey, Stephen! Are you gonna live in there?” comes Natasha’s voice as Stephen spits the last of the bile into the toilet, flushing it. It’s taunting but lighthearted and all jokes but yes, Stephen is considering living in there temporarily.

He rinses his mouth out with tap water, spitting it out and then washes his hands. When Stephen opens the door to the bathroom, he spots both Natasha and Eddie still at the small table in the corner of the room. Jenga was currently stacked up and both of them had a few pieces out. Eddie looked completely into it while Natasha had a carefully calculated look on her face as if pretending to be thinking but Stephen knew she knew a hundred different ways to win.

“Glad you’ve joined the land of the living,” Natasha jests, not looking away from the tower as Eddie giggles and moves to pull out his piece. “Thought you died in there from the sound of you croaking like a frog.”

“And you wouldn’t have checked on me?” He sarcastically retorts, placing himself on the recliner opposite of the room and sinking into its warmth. Natasha’s snort greets him in answer.

“Well, I would’ve. Eventually.”

“Glad to know you care.”

“Love you too.”

Stephen slips his eyes closed and leans back just as Natasha pulls her piece and sets it carefully stacked on the rest of her pieces. He was exhausted, having been up all night with a migraine and then woken up early from the little sleep he did get by Eddie desperately wanting to visit his new favorite person: Natasha.

They formally met only two days ago and Stephen has never seen Eddie bond with someone faster. Even as a baby, it took him a while to warm up to Christine. But of course, he wasn’t a baby anymore.

The sound of the jenga blocks tumbling down slightly jolts him, and he opens one eye to spot Eddie holding his piece with his own look of disbelief which morphs into frustration. “Darn it! I lost again.”

Natasha gives him a fond smile, beginning to gather the blocks on the table while Eddie reaches down to grab the few ones that fell on the floor. “That’s three games in a row, малыш.”

“Best out of seven?” Eddie tries, with a reborn competitive look on his face mixed with a pouting one. Of course, Natasha smirks but doesn’t answer as she begins stacking the blocks once more. Well, Stephen didn’t know whether to worry or not. It was just a game - it wouldn’t crush Eddie’s hopes and dreams.

Really, there was no need for Stephen to be there since he wasn’t supervising or doing anything of importance. He could head back to the Sanctum and leave Eddie to play his heart out with Nat until it was time to come home. Maybe take a nap, or actually get some work done. Wong had shooed him out saying that he’d train the new Sorcerers today and that Stephen wasn’t the only Master still living. Maybe he just wanted to listen to Beyoncé in peace and have time to himself - he did technically raise a kid for five years.

The door to the hospital room opens up just as Stephen finds himself dozing off, and in walks Steve followed by Sam with bags of take out in their hands. “Oh no, she’s in a wheelchair. Lock the doors.” Sam teases, as Natasha shoots him a glare and Steve snorts. While she has been making progress with using her legs without much pain, the redhead usually opted for a wheelchair for mobility because staying in one spot killed her (and yes, Stephen knows Steve wasn’t exaggerating when she spoke about it.)

“We got food,” Steve announces, setting down the plastic bags on the table right by the end of the bed. The appearance of new people sends Eddie from the chair he sat at and right across the room into the security of his father, jumping in his lap and curling into Stephen. It does catch the sorcerer off guard a bit, but he recovers, wrapping his arms around the boy and kissing the top of his head.

“Finally, I thought you abandoned us.” Natasha nonchalantly says, placing the block she had taken out down and smiling up at the two as Steve hands her a styrofoam box.

“I’ll always come back.”

Sam moves to recline in the bed, shuffling a bit to get comfortable and grab his own plate. “I don’t know why she insists on not being here but free food in a bed made out of angel wings? Must be nice.”

“Well, Wilson, you be subjected to hours of being told to sit still for hours upon hours.”

“Ouch, we’re back on last name terms.” Sam fires back, grabbing the remote and turning the channels of the TV while still mindful of the child in the room.

Steve walks over to the chair Stephen sits in, and he feels Eddie press more into his frame in efforts to get away from the approaching man. It essentially didn’t matter that this was Captain America himself, a stranger was a stranger to Eddie - Natasha just was a special case. “I got you two something as well.” He offers with a bright golden retriever smile.

And while it’s a nice gesture, Stephen cannot stomach anything without it coming back to bitch slap him in the face so he only takes the offered box for Eddie’s sake. “Thank you,” He says, with a small smile as Steve nods and goes to sit in the chair Eddie once occupied.

There’s some chicken tenders and fries in the box, the universal “go-to-if-you-don’t-know-they-like” meal and definitely the “go-to-for-children”. Once he opens the box, Stephen offers a piece to Eddie wordlessly, letting the boy take the piece from his hands and inspect it as if it were going to blow up. And then side eye Steve. It’s amusing from Stephen’s point of view, but he has no idea if it was something he should watch carefully. Were children always this paranoid?

“I didn’t poison it, I promise.” Steve reassures, catching the way Eddie eyed him and held the chicken tender in his one hand.

“Steve, don’t say that-” Natasha rushes to say, glaring at Steve just as Eddie’s eyes widen and he looks back down at the chicken. It’s as if just hearing it put new ideas in his head and Stephen has to bite back a dramatic sigh.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant-”

“You’re scaring the kid,” Sam notes, yet completely focused on the TV.

“I didn’t-”

And Stephen takes pity, because not everyone knows how to deal with children. Surprisingly for the poster boy that is Captain America, but then again, Eddie isn’t the typical hero obsessed kid (in public anyway).

He grabs a fry from the plate and pops it into his mouth, showing Eddie that there was nothing done to it or implied to have been. It’s tangy and not that salty but Stephen forces himself to swallow and ignore the turning of his stomach. Hopefully, the baby liked fries. It’s enough to get Eddie to hesitantly gnaw on the chicken tender, narrowing his eyes at Stephen before turning to look up at the TV.

It’s semi silent in the room, except for some conversation between Steve and Natasha. Stephen doesn’t tune in much except for small conversation regarding physical therapy, but since it’s a more private discussion, it isn’t continued for long. That and Natasha didn’t look all to comfortable talking about it.

“You wanna continue the game?” Natasha calls out to Eddie, pulling his attention from some supernatural show playing on the TV. “We don’t have to do best of seven; Next winner wins the game as a whole.” She grabs a leftover Jenga block as most were cleared out of the way for food, “I promise I’ll go easy on you.”

Eddie gives a small smile. “No you’re not,” He retorts, but eyes Steve suspiciously in the seat.

Steve raises his hands, getting the hint that Eddie was definitely not moving from Stephen unless he was clear out of the way. “I’m movin’, I’m movin.” He collects his own half eaten plate and over to the chair to the right of the bed Sam had a ball reclining on. Once he’s situated there, Eddie waits a few more seconds before dashing back over to the chair next to Natasha.

And it was refreshing, to see Eddie interact with someone other than Wong and himself. Eddie says he has friends, but Stephen suspects that he really just hangs around the other kids without actually making an effort to socialize. It was fine by him; he wouldn’t force his kid to do anything too uncomfortable for him until it got a bit concerning. Damn, was parenting hard. Starting with an infant and skipping a few skips tends to throw a person off.

Stephen watches Nat and Eddie play the rest of the Jenga game which runs longer than the last one, and even catches Steve watching Natasha fondly. And by the looks of it, Sam notices it too. A puppy love expression is written over the blonde’s face, but Stephen won’t embarrass him by even nudging him slightly.

A wave of nausea rolls over him five minutes later, and Stephen already knows the inevitable is about to happen sooner or later. He only did have a few more fries to at least try and give himself some sustenance (it’s fries, they don’t give that much but oh well, he hadn’t eaten all morning.) However, he wills himself to keep it down. There was no excuse for throwing up constantly without someone being alerted and questioning it. At least Natasha relented to his excuse of eating something bad even if he knew she knew it was a lie. Steve won’t be so gracious- the worry wart.

He stands, setting the semi finished box down and placing his hands into his pockets. “I’m going down to the cafeteria for some tea.” He announces, just as the tower falls on Natasha’s part, causing Eddie to cheer from his chair.

“Cheater.”

“Na uh! It’s cause my kid's luck.” Eddie beams, before slipping out the chair and running to Stephen’s side. “Can we play Slapjack again from yesterday?” He asks, directed to Natasha but still clinging to the sorcerer. Stephen knows there’s no way he would stay in the room with Sam and Steve there, but it was fine.

Nat smirks and begins stacking the blocks once more. “I look forward to it when you come back.”

With that, Stephen takes Eddie’s smaller and smoother hand in his own and leads him out of the room. He navigates through the various hallways to where he knows the cafeteria is. He only went there the day before when Natasha and Eddie watched Star Wars after Eddie came back from kindergarten.

When they arrive, it’s not that busy and pretty quiet which Stephen is thankful for so he walks over to the liquids area and begins to make himself a portable cup of tea. They had various options so he chose ginger (because at this point, he’s going to throw up his guts) and it’s a well packed cafeteria. It is one of N.Y.C’s best, so he should’ve expected it.

“Daddy?”

Stephen hums in question as he looks over to Eddie who is looking off to someone in a wheelchair with someone walking alongside them. “It’s not nice to stare, Eddie Bear.”

“That rhymes.” Eddie giggles, and Stephen rolls his eyes with a smile on his lips as he opens the tea bag.

“So it does. Maybe I should become a poet.”

Eddie scrunches his face, and Stephen resists the urge to pinch his cheek. “No way, poets are old and weird.” He sticks out his tongue and pulls down his cheeks to exaggerate the look.

“Mm...if you say so, O All Knowing Eddie.”

Eddie sighs and begins to give little bounces around Stephen, tugging on his jacket and whatnot. Just like all around the way all kids do before standing to full height and bouncing to Stephen’s side. “Daddy, is Miss Natasha paralyzed?”

Stephen tenses before forcing himself to relax and placing a lid onto the top of the cup. “No, she can walk but it’ll take a while for her to relearn normally.”

“Like a baby?”

“That’s-” Stephen cuts off, pausing in thought. Well, if it was put that way but not really. Babies don't get their spine shattered then die, be brought back to life and have their injury fixed in an instant and then learn to walk due to the partial paralysis. “Ssssort of like a baby…” he continues, but his face shows his skepticism.

Eddie clings to the ends of Stephen’s jacket as they walk over to a register to pay for the tea - it’s pretty inexpensive - and Eddie skips ahead of Stephen but not enough to be too far. A twinge of something warns him in the back of his head that something felt...off. It’s enough to bring him to a slow stop, holding the warm cup in one hand almost aimlessly.

“Daddy?” Eddie asks, noticing that Stephen had stopped and walking back to stand by his side. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t know - it felt weird, like a nagging voice telling him that he was going to regret walking back into that room and he didn’t entirely know why. Was his magic going haywire? Has something happened? Has someone attacked?

“Nothing, gem.”

“Then keep movinnnng! I wanna play with ‘tasha!” Eddie rushes behind Stephen and begins pushing. It’s not much, but Stephen allows himself to be pushed back to the elevator for the floor Natasha resided on. Stephen actually prefers it more so he could shield Eddie if there were actually something wrong.

There was no visible panic around so it was fine. And yet, Stephen was panicking.

Once the room is in view, Eddie moves from behind Stephen and runs to the doorway, immediately pausing when he gets there. The boy's sudden stopping could mean Sam and Steve were still there, so Stephen tries to squash his instinct to automatically portal the boy into the safety of the Sanctum.

Stephen makes a light joke out of it, “Are scary Steve and Sam still the…” However, once he stands behind Eddie, his heart drops down to his stomach and every ounce of heat leaves him in a second.

Right in the middle of the room, knelt in front of Natasha was none other than the man he had avoided for almost a month.

He’s programming some kind of brace wrapped around her torso and extending towards her legs. It was almost like a brace that Colonel Rhodes wore, but altered to her case.

Natasha is sitting on the edge of the bed while Tony snapped on the rest of the brace. Steve and Sam are on the other side of the bed, Sam standing while Steve stood right by Natasha’s side.

There’s a loud ringing in his ears as he processes the slight. Stephen almost drops the cup in his hand had it not been for the grounding heat radiating from it.

Eddie steps back to press into Stephen, obviously not happy with the presence of other people in the room. It snaps Stephen back to earth as he reaches down a hand to ruffle Eddie’s hair, a silent gesture it was okay, and moving to sit in the free recliner right next to the door. Eddie doesn’t take a moment to separate them, practically gluing himself to his side.

Tony looks over at him, and Stephen swears that it could not get any worse. He notes the metal arm sporting from his right shoulder, red and gold, and how the man looked notably better than right after the snap.

“Ow- shit-” Natasha curses, snapping everyone’s attention to her.

“What? What happened?” Steve asks, ever the worry wart as Tony turns back to the brace and adjusts it a bit.

“It’s designed to align her spine, help stabilize, and relieve all the sudden pressure off her healing L1 vertebrae so it’s gonna take a while to get used to. It’ll speed up the process, though.” Tony explains, slightly moving her legs and then backing up to help Natasha stand on shaky feet. True to its job, Natasha doesn’t tremble as much when she stands but it also doesn’t look like a walk in the park from the tell in her face.

Stephen feels like he’s going to throw up. Not from the sight but just the slam of seeing Tony so...fast. It was much like a bandaid rip off but at the same time an actual punch to the gut. He catches Natasha’s semi concerned look in the corner of his eye, and only then knows to school his expression to a more neutral one.

Because this was awkward as hell.

He forces himself to drink the tea while Tony mainly voiced features about the brace and had Natasha answer questions. Other than that, he zones out and just focuses on keeping the tea down and soothing his nerves.

“You’re not ready to walk independently yet, but it’ll help with physical therapy tremendously.”

“Guess I can’t escape yet, huh?” Natasha pouts, earning a few chuckles around the room. “I’m serious. I’m tempted to just play dead and have them transport me to a morgue so I can break out halfway through.”

Steve is the next one to speak up. “Good thing you won’t get far with that plan given I’m currently faster and swifter than you.”

“Rogers, you shut your damn mouth.”

“Jesus, can you watch your language? There’s a kid in here.” Sam voices, and all heads turn to the quiet kid currently curled into Stephen. It was as if they had forgotten he was there which reminded Stephen of what Pepper said.

Eddie curls away from the attention, but gives a small shrug. “‘ve heard worse,” He mumbles, but it doesn’t miss their ears.

Natasha gives a gasp of disbelief. “Strange, are you cursing around your son?”

“Your son?!” Tony asks, whipping his head around towards Stephen - who pointedly ignores that question.

“No, I do not curse around my son. I don’t even curse hardly ever.” To the second statement, only when he’s stressed to an extreme but even he wouldn’t hold himself to that. It’s not very much like him to do so.

Natasha is slowly set back down on the bed as she slightly left her leg to test out the brace even further. “Sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean it. Don’t say those words; they’re bad and Steve will come get you.”

The imagery is enough to put a look of a confused horror on Eddie’s face but the reference puts a smile on everyone’s face - except Steve’s, who is frowning. Even Tony seems to break from looking in between Stephen and Eddie to smirk over at Steve.

“Nat-“

“He’s a language monster.” Natasha continues, but the silliness of the atmosphere is enough to get Eddie to slightly relax with a side eye at the conflicted blond. “He’ll come for your toes in the night.”

“That’s enough of that.” Steve warns, probably out of fear of Natasha worsening that stranger-danger intuition Eddie held, and Nat smirks at him but doesn’t continue her reign of tyranny. Stephen chalks it up to payback for being cooped up in the hospital.

Once Tony is finished running a couple of more tests, he takes it off for some more adjustments and she’s maneuvered into the bed only because her back began to hurt, and Stephen has to bite back the guilt rising in his stomach. It wasn’t even his fault she fell- but it was. He knew what needed to be done for the Universe.

Sam and Steve had stepped out some time after, and with less people in the room, Eddie perked up enough to grab the stack of cards and climb into the bed with Nat, settling for Slapjack (his absolute favorite game that he genuinely can keep up in). It only leaves Stephen to watch from the recliner as Tony is off in a corner of the room, working on a hologram Stephen didn’t even know he brought in.

“Cute kid.”

Stephen whirls his head to his right, looking up to see Tony standing just a couple feet away from him while watching Nat and Eddie in their own world. His arms are crossed, jacket enunciating the metal arm’s stature. And Tony has definitely aged - five years can do that to a person. It feels jarring to see him up close after all this time and there’s no threat nearby - one that isn’t Stephen’s own heart about to jump out of his throat.

And wow, it really has been five years. It still hasn’t settled with Stephen yet, especially with the fact his son is no longer an infant but a young child in elementary.

Instead of answering Tony, Stephen looks back over to the bed just as Natasha slaps her hand forward to take the pile faster than a viper. A faint smile plays on his lips, and Stephen fiddles with the half empty cup in his hands.

“Can we...uh...can we talk?”

And at first, Stephen wants to decline, but letting the regret and unspoken words fester in him would do no good. With a quick glance to see if Eddie was distracted enough, Stephen relents with a sigh, standing and placing the cup on the arm of the chair. “Five minutes.” And not because he doesn’t think Eddie can’t be alone with Nat, but mostly for his own sanity.

Tony gives a curt nod and steps to the side when Stephen whisks past him, slipping out of the room and into the empty hallway. It’s only then do the anxiety low in his gut start to flare, and Stephen is surprised he’s kept down a few measly fries and tea till now.

It’s silent when Tony follows out, slightly closing the door so that the two inside couldn’t snoop - not that that’s ever stopped Natasha anyways - before clearing his throat. It makes Stephen feel self conscious, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets to provide at least some form of protection (and slightly extend his jacket over his cargo, but no one had to know).

“So.”

“So…”

“Five minutes, right?” Tony asks, but Stephen shrugs. At this point, if all went well it wouldn’t have to be. “Cool, uh, then I should probably start with a thanks. For saving my life, even if I am missing a few parts.”

It’s an obvious joke, but it falls flat even without the tense and awkward atmosphere to kill it first. Stephen’s grimace is reflected onto Tony’s wince. “Right. Bad call. Sorry.” It’s going downhill and fast. Maybe he should’ve kept the timer.

“Don’t mention it. It’s been three weeks already - You saved us all and I saved you in return. A fair trade, don’t you think?” Stephen attempts to say nonchalantly, but more hesitant than anything. He’s treading lightly around Tony, and it’s more thin ice than ever, but it’s also dancing around the large elephant that’s the problem.

Tony gives a twisted smile, shifting his weight. “We really didn’t get to talk about-” He clears his throat, “-what happened, given Thanos and all that.”

“Is there something to talk about?” Stephen asks, finding Tony’s unamused look rather...amusing. “I mean, if you’re talking about what we had? Then no, there’s nothing to talk about. It happened six years ago - you’re married; I moved on. Congrats, by the way.”

It feels like he’s spewing poison but it’s the truth. Hearing it from his own voice should force his subconscious to come to terms with it, but it doesn’t mean that it hurts any less.

Tony acknowledges the congrats with a nod, but still doesn’t look relieved or any less tense. “Just wanted to make sure.”

And it’s probably the most harmless sentence ever but it pisses Stephen off. And deeply.

Irritation strikes every chord in him. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” The brunt of it puts a shocked expression on Tony, but Stephen continues. “Is your ego so large to think I’m still caught up over what happened years ago when I was dead for over 90% of that time? Get over yourself, Stark. “You wanted to make sure”. Make sure what? I wasn’t still hung up over you?”

“God, Strange, that isn’t what I meant!” Tony rushes to defend, raising his hands as if that would calm the sorcerer down. The contrast of the metal hand from the human catches Stephen’s eyes, but it doesn’t linger long.

And a tiny voice is yelling at Stephen because where the hell did the attitude come from? Things aren’t just going south; they’ve hit the floor, crashed and burned without any survivors. “So then what? You have a wife and a kid.”

“Well apparently so do you!”

“Would that be a problem?”

“Okay, I’m getting nowhere.” Tony runs his hand through his hair in frustration before releasing a tight sigh and forcing himself to visibly relax. “First, to serve my own curiosity: When did you have a kid?”

“He’s five,” Stephen simply answers, watching Tony do that mental math. “Plus the five years I was gone anyways. What else?”

Instead of speaking, Tony stands there, watching Stephen as confusion runs behind his brown eyes. “Christine’s?” He asks, because he knew Stephen used to date her. And for a genius, Stephen has to bite back a remark at how stupid he is.

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“Stephen-”

“Listen, Tony.” Stephen begins, sighing and feeling every ounce of earlier anger slipping from him. It’s enough to catch Tony’s attention and make him shut up - a feat in and of itself. “I don’t want to go into specifics, and I’m not apologizing for getting pissy but you’ve got to understand that everyone has different ways to cope. It’s five years into the future. I’ll manage. I saved you with magic, you have a new arm, everything is still intact, and everything’s good. So there’s no reason to bring up anything from the past.” It’s frantic and rushed, but Stephen couldn’t bare his heart. Not anymore. “Are we good?”

Tony is quiet, watching Stephen with an unreadable expression. It’s uncomfortable, but Stephen would not bend to fill in the silence.

“And the two months before Thanos?” Tony finally inquiries. Right, that had happened.

Stephen feels his throat close up, but forces the words out before they get lost. “Never happened.” He’s surprised Tony even remembered the morning after since he was black out drunk before.

“Right.” Tony places his hands in the pockets of his jeans, unsure what to do with them. “So then we’re good.”

“We’re good.”

“Yep.”

And Stephen understands now. Tony is just trying to make sure there was nothing there to destroy the family he had. No lingering feelings to screw everything up. It hurts - damn, does it hurt. It makes Stephen realize there was no way that he could fit. Not that he wanted to, but at least just for Eddie and his baby. Their baby. It was just the three of them - plus Wong and Christine. That’s fine. Tony had his life and Stephen had his.

It was never meant to be. The Universe truly didn’t want any path of theirs to cross.

Tony walks back to the room, passing Stephen without another word. Stephen had hoped that maybe he would be satisfied by this, but now it feels like everything has been made worse.

He stands there for what seems like forever, before turning back and walking back into the room as well, sinking into his original recliner. He pointedly ignores Tony as he packs the brace and says goodbye to Nat. He even gives a “bye, kid” to Eddie and a small two finger wave to Stephen before leaving the room.

It becomes a blur to Stephen as he sits there, repeatedly going over their earlier conversation. Even as Natasha wins one game of Slapjack and Eddie wins two, he feels surreal - disconnected.

It’s only the small rolling in his stomach that Stephen is brought back to reality, looking over to Nat and Eddie laughing at something. He doesn’t know.

His feet subconsciously carry him over to the bathroom, pushing open the door and immediately emptying his stomach contents into the porcelain bowl.

His throat burns and his stomach hurts from constantly puking as tears run down his face.

From throwing up or pent up emotion, he didn’t know. But all Stephen wanted to do is take the Time Stone, go back in time and tell himself to be wary of Tony Stark. But it’s not the man’s fault.

It’s all Stephen’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Not to plug my own work but....I gave birth to three new stories, two being continued! So my writing time might be split up between them but I don’t plan on stopping! Thanks!


	6. Rewind, Rewind, Rewind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further down the rabbit hole, Stephen finds himself backed into a corner with no way out but backwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years! And Merry Belated Christmas!! Wow, I cannot believe it is 2021 already. Wooooow.... Moment of silence for a year passing us by. 
> 
> So....late chapter? Don’t kill me, I had this in drafts for a long time but once again, posting it took a lot of confidence because is it too cringe? Am I butchering it to filth? 
> 
> Warning for hints of abortion?¿ Ish?!!! I don’t know. There’s no direct mention of it but be wary. Other than that, I think it’s all clear. 
> 
> I am currently packing to head back to campus where there should be more updates so worry not! Also I have to divide my time to my other books now. Eyes warily. Anyways. Short author’s note. Enjoy! Kudos and comments appreciated!!

Stephen is sick. 

Not with a flu, he doesn’t think. This is not a normal sickness. The sorcerer lays in his bed, feeling hot and cold at the same time as his limbs ache. He feels sluggish and like his head would explode any minute now. It sucks. 

It’s been two days after the whole Stark ordeal. Immediately after, Stephen had sent a somewhat lengthy text to Pepper personally asking her if she would not tell Tony what she knew for his sake. She understood that it wasn’t her place but didn’t understand what had happened. Stephen didn’t explain nor respond. 

He rolls over onto his other side, hugging his pillow close to his feverish head and glad he enchanted them to be cool for a while. He felt like shit point blank. 

Because Stephen was currently incapable of even leaving the bed without being hit by a massive wave of nausea, Wong had once again resumed his duties. He says it's no problem but it doesn’t stop Stephen from feeling like a massive piece of shit still. It’s almost a month since he’s been back and nothing has changed. 

There’s a knock on the door, interrupting Stephen’s stream of self loathing and he wants to tell them to royally piss off, but respectfully as well. 

“Stephen? It’s me, Christine. I got your text and despite what you wanted I came over.” 

Nothing against his ex slash somewhat friend, but Stephen would prefer no company right now even if he doesn’t have the strength to even voice it. So with the unspoken rejection, Christine opens the door, slipping in and quickly shutting the door to not let any light in. 

Stephen doesn’t bother to open his eyes, further rubbing his face against his pillow as Christine moves around the room a bit. Finally, she sits down on the side of the bed, reaching her cool hand to feel on Stephen’s heated forehead. 

“So what’s got you down this time, huh? Did you catch a bug?”

He actually didn’t know what was the cause of his current ailment. Could’ve been stress, or natural sickness, or anything else his brain decided to spontaneously forget about. Stephen shrugs just as Christine stands from the bed and walks over to a chair, bringing back her bag. 

It’s somewhat dim in the room with the closed blinds, but it must’ve been enough for Christine to see as she works swiftly. “You’re lucky I had a day off.” Stephen makes an acknowledging hum to it before he moves onto his back, bringing his hand up to rub at his eyes. 

“You’re still working at the hospital? Even though you were…”

“I have to. Many people came back injured, in need of immediate surgery. It’s just part of the job.” Christine answers, then pulls out a portable ultrasound machine along with some medicine. “Don’t worry. This is a more of a general, over the counter kind.” 

“The ultrasound…” Stephen forces out. While his throat wasn’t that wrecked, it was mostly from throwing up a majority of the past two days. 

“I took a guess and I want to say that I’m right. I’m right, aren’t I? You weren’t subtle about it in your text if it was a secret.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Stephen answers, “Lucky you. Want a prize?”

“I cut the umbilical cord this time?” Christine asks, as Stephen deadpans her. 

“You cut Eddie’s.” 

“So? Hm, alright fine. Only to keep my title as Aunt.” Christine says with a small smile. “Except this time I won’t traumatize my nephew.” She follows up with a grim expression, pouring the medicine into the serving cup and giving it to Stephen. He downs it as Christine begins to set up the portable ultrasound. 

Stephen feels bad, but doesn’t speak about it - downing the thick liquid as best as he can with his burning throat. Grape. Disgusting. 

“Wasn’t your fault,” Stephen says, holding back a cough at the taste of the absolutely revolting paste. There was no way that people made this flavor on purpose. On purpose?! 

“I know but I just...Stephen, I crashed the car with your infant son in the back.”

“Don’t remind me,” The sorcerer whispers, and even though he completely didn’t blame Christine, it was a bitter topic to think about. The other is still for a second before quietly continuing to set up.

It’s a bit awkward in between the two, with tension rising every moment that passes without a word spoken. It’s only when Christine pulls out that damned cold gel and motions for him to pull his shirt up. “Brace yourself,” is the only warning she gives before pouring a generous amount onto his midsection.

Stephen hisses at the sudden chill, but tries not to move too much or look down at his slightly extended middle. He didn’t want to think about it - didn’t want to think about anything leading up to his moment. Didn’t want to think at all. 

Christine places the wand onto his stomach and begins moving it around, looking down at the small computer on her lap. “What’s your plan?” She asks, probably in hopes for small talk in order to kill time or the tension. 

“What I did before. Have the kid and continue on life as normal as possible.”

“So then what about…”

“Stark? Nothing to it. He has his family and I have mine. No connection.”

“Except...your kids are kind of his at the same time.” Christine raises an eyebrow, leveling Stephen with a look that he can’t even bother to begin deciphering. “So there’s always that “connection” you’re talking about. What I’m mostly shocked about is how you managed two kids by him and he doesn’t know about it-”

“Stop talking.” Stephen urges, bringing up both hands to rub at his face and at least try and shake the nauseated feeling.

“All I’m saying is-”

“I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I know you don’t. That’s why I’m telling you.” Christine catches Stephen peaking through his fingers with a glare, and gives him an innocent smile while still standing her ground. 

“You’re horrible.”

“Horrible, maybe. I am only looking out for you so if I have to be horrible for then so be it.” She raises her eyebrow at Stephen, who breaks the gaze first with a huff. “I win.”

Stephen has half a mind to open a portal right under her and drop her into the Pacific Ocean or something just because he feels that petty. “Seriously rethinking letting you be Aunt. Is that what you want? I have that power over you.”

Christine’s response doesn’t come, as she becomes more focused on the screen before turning it towards Stephen. Her smile is bright as she introduces it. “Here they are.”

The black and white image is unclear at first because Stephen moves, but it’s laid out in front of him. Right on the screen is the grainy yet unmistakable image of his baby. Anything snarky is immediately blanked from his mind as everything around him slows to a stop. It’s only him and the small gift the universe gave him in the room. 

This was happening. This reality was indeed  _ real.  _

“Everything seems to be looking pretty good. I can’t see anything wrong with them. Then again, I’m not a sonographer - just a good friend.” Christine jokes lightheartedly, but she can’t get over the absolute look of awe in Stephen’s eyes. Even if he’ll deny it a thousand times over later, she stores it away into her folder of “Stephen moments that are unlikely to happen again”. “I’ll have someone look at the ultrasound pictures just to make sure. You’re not alone in this, Stephen.”

Stephen finally peers up at Christine, who is giving him a sympathetic look now. He hardly wants to discuss it or even think about it before Christine moves her hand just a bit more, fiddling around with the computer some more. 

“The little peanut is moving.”

And sure enough, the screen shows the subtle but noticeable movements of the baby. Little nudges from the feet and hands - It reminds Stephen of how restless Eddie before he was born. He started moving the earliest he could. 

“I can’t feel it yet so I better enjoy it while I can,” Stephen sarcastically jests, while Christine chuckles and focuses back on the screen. 

She finishes in silence, which Stephen is semi grateful as she hands him a towel to wipe off the gel himself. Guess she remembers Stephen snapping at her for even trying to do it the first time. In reality, it was five years ago but to the both of them a dozen months, give or take some ago. It was strange. 

Christine is the first to break the silence, typing on the computer but not looking at Stephen. “You should talk to him. Tell him or...something.”

“I told his wife. That counts for something.” And he didn’t mean to say it so bitterly, but he still feels achy and primarily like shit - sue him. 

The brunette slows her movements, face scrunching in a moment of confusion before a grim realization. “He got married during the five years we’ve been gone.” 

“They were engaged right when Thanos happened, so I’m not surprised. Wong went to their wedding. He has a picture of their house in his  _ phone  _ and it’s still weird.”

Christine bites her lip, and Stephen adjusts himself back under the covers with the pillow pressed into the side of his face. He couldn’t stand to look at her constantly changing expression, but figured it was better to have this conversation now rather than later. 

“That’s...good for them. Not sure why you would tell her solely, but..”

“Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

“No- Stephen- actually, yes, there is.” Christine’s tone takes on a sharp edge, bringing Stephen’s gaze over to her. “Stephen, I don’t know if your critical thinking has been affected by your condition or your undying crush but you’re self destructing! Even more now after...after being back for almost a month now nothing has changed from what Wong told me. I’ve seen this behavior before - you think you know what’s right and you try to fix things but only screw it up more. It’s getting old.”

It feels like he’s being lectured, but it hurts worse, causing Stephen to stubbornly huff and pull the covers above his head. He didn’t have to listen to Christine - he could kick her out, but somehow didn’t have the heart or mind to. 

There’s the uncomfortable quiet that follows before Christine sighs and a hand is placed on Stephen’s shoulder, slightly squeezing. “Look...I know you’ve been through a lot. The accident, becoming a..sorcerer of all things, Eddie and then the Dusting- It’s- It’s a lot to go through in the timespan of what, five years give or take?”

Stephen mumbles pathetically, “Not including the added time.” 

“Right...and you have all the time in the world to process it in your own way but we’ve given you time-”

“How did it happen?” 

Christine snaps her mouth shut as Stephen removes the comforter from over his face. His eyes meet hers, somewhat blank. “I’m sorry?” She asks after a while. 

It takes some energy for Stephen to muster up enough courage to finish what he started. “How did it happen when you...when the Snap happened?” It feels like a morbid thing to ask - how someone quite literally died, but he never heard it in detail before and just...needed to. Even as he said he didn’t earlier.

But just watching Christine’s face, devoid of emotion, Stephen feels immense guilt build up in his already sore throat. “You don’t have to tell me- nevermind, just...forget I said anything.”

But the brunette sags her shoulders and pulls her hands together to place them in her lap. She shakes her head slowly, before giving a sad chuckle. “No, it’s okay. I’ve gotten over it for the most part. Took some time to really process it but I had to force myself to get over it.”

With a deep breath, she starts slowly, “I was driving and Eddie was in the back in his car seat, as usual. Hey Jude was playing on the radio - his favorite everytime we were together.”

_ Christine hums the tune right along the song, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and occasionally looking up in the rearview mirror to say the little hands reaching up for the overhead toys. It makes her smile every time.  _

“The day had gone normally. I was on my way to drop off something for a friend - regular errands.”

Stephen just stared, feeling his hands begin to ache.

_ “Remember to let her into your heart,” Christine sings softly, pressing on the accelerator lightly as the traffic lightens up. Thankfully, it wasn’t too bad for usual midday and even in the afternoon, she had expected it to be worse.  _

_ There’s a small giggle from the back, and Christine can’t help the bright smile that comes over her face. “Is my singing funny to you?”  _

“I looked back - maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe if I had seen it, I could’ve swerved.”

_ There’s a small squeal from the car seat, and even if she can’t see his face, Christine looks back for just a second. But when she turns back, it’s only a split second of terror striking her when she sees the car swerving out of the opposite lane and towards hers. There was no time to react. _

Christine moves her hand up to bite on her nail, breaking out of the memory and Stephen’s own gaze breaks away. He feels sick to his stomach, but then again what else is new?

“All I could remember is that damned song as I woke up.”

_ She didn’t know how much time had passed. It could’ve been seconds, it could’ve been minutes. As Christine comes to, everything hurts. The airbag is blown and there’s a ringing in her ears along with the muffled continuation of Hey Jude. It was so weird - the radio playing right after a crash. She crashed? Her?? An experienced surgeon?! _

_ Without thinking, Christine slowly moves to unbuckle her seatbelt, letting out groans of pain as she steps out onto shaky legs and onto the road. God, she would give that asshole a piece of her mind. She smells gas, and the tilting of the world comes into focus as she sees a helicopter slam into the side of a skyscraper.  _

_ It doesn’t register to her immediately, but when it does, her body is slowly filled with adrenaline, waking with every second and realizing that A. She was just in a car crash. B. Something was wrong.  _

_ One look at the other car that crashed into hers showed no one, but she isn’t concerned with that right now. The ringing gave way to the unforgettable cries of an infant.  _

_ “Eddie!” Christine calls, quickly sprinting over to the passenger side of her car and opening the door. The radio is glitching now, but it’s not enough to stop Christine’s focus from checking anywhere from external injuries. She ignores her own pain, as she moves to unbuckle the seatbelts. Thankfully for the cushion around the infant, it looks like he wasn’t affected much, but that didn’t count for internal injuries.  _

_ But just as she begins to slide her shaking hands under Eddie, something feels...wrong. It felt off. She couldn’t feel anything in her hands. The brunette brings her hands back up, staring at them just as her left hand begins to disintegrate before her very eyes.  _

_ She tries not to scream, she really does. But there wasn’t enough willpower in the world that couldn’t have stopped it. Fear and terror keep her from moving as she watches it crawl down her arm and then start again at her right hand.  _

_ She’s dying. She’s dying and she can’t stop it, but she’s not ready. _

_ Tears well in her eyes. It wasn’t the time to be crying but there wasn’t enough time in the world that could’ve been spent any other way. However, it seemed to all slow down as she looked down at the scared infant in the car seat, baby blue eyes wide and teary.  _

_ And all Christine can think about as she sighs her last breath is how she failed Stephen for keeping a part of his heart safe. Everything fades into darkness. _

Christine brings her hands up to cover her face, inhaling deeply through her nose. “Wong told me he wasn’t stuck there for long. But still, I feel awful about it every waking moment.”

Stephen looks away from the wall he had zoned out at and finally looks at his ex- at his  _ friend.  _ She looks tired, defeated. He knows the feeling. “You couldn’t help it,” He gives weakly, but he believed it. No one could. He could only think about how horrible it would be for an innocent person going about their day for the Snap to happen. Stephen knew it would happen. But nothing could prepare for the feeling of being ripped apart, piece by piece and fading away into nothing. 

“Well, neither could you,” Christine defends, resting her chin on the heel of her hand. 

“I shouldn’t have asked you to recall that.” Stephen sits up, clutching the cooled pillow to his midsection. “I’m a horrible person.”

“That much is true.” Christine answers with a smirk. Stephen throws his pillow at her, but she catches it with a smile. “Thank you for this; I just might take it home with me. It’s cool and fluffy. Consider it payment for my services.”

Stephen snorts and reaches forward to take back his pillow, which Christine does allow. “Are you and Wong conspiring against me?” He asks, because it’s a recurring theme. It seems everyone keeps asking him if he was okay and there was only one person behind it. 

That and Christine’s smile doesn’t deny it. 

“You assholes.”

“We’re only looking after you! Since you can’t do that yourself.” Christine tries to give straight, but ends up laughing instead. It’s not meant to offend Stephen, but Christine hopes that it’ll get through the stubborn thickett. Even just a little. “Now get some rest; I don’t want to keep you long.” 

Stephen shrugs. He felt a bit better than earlier, and he’s grateful for the distraction but now he’s also reminded of everything leading up to this. If he could just go back and save himself from all this trouble then he would, but deep down Stephen knows he really wouldn’t. The trouble brought him Eddie in the first place. 

The sobriety of the situation slips the smile off his face, something that Christine notices right away. “It’s gonna be okay. You’ll figure something out. You always do - and I’m always here if you need me.”

“Everyone keeps telling me I should just tell him outright but he has his own life - doesn’t want anything to disrupt that.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“He hinted at it. I can read between the lines just fine, thank you.”

Christine gives him a sympathetic smile before standing and adjusting her shirt, sliding a hand through her loose hair. “Well, I won’t tell you what to do in that aspect but I’m sure the answer will come to you...somehow. Just run it by us first until you graduate “Social Comprehension 101”.” 

She places the portable ultrasound back in her large bag, but leaves the medicine on the nightstand. “I’ve got to get going anyway to meet with a friend,” She says, but from the look on her face, Stephen suspects she’s not being all the way truthful.    
  


“Friend,” Stephen says slowly, receiving a lighthearted glare from Christine as she walks over to the door, hand on the handle as she pauses. 

“Yes, Stephen _ ,  _ a  _ friend.  _ Something you should invest in. Call me when you’re not looking sick in the face.” She snarks, sneaking out the room quickly before he could retort. It’s a dirty move, but the sorcerer only slinks back under the cover to try and catch a nap before Eddie gets home. The five year old knew no bounds now that he had his father back, and Wong was more than happy to strangely disappear and leave Stephen alone with him. Not that there was a problem with it, but technically Stephen had been used to raising a low maintenance baby not a high energy child. 

But it’s good to get a peace of mind about his baby, and to feel less shitty in general. And yet still, there’s Christine’s voice in the back of his head “Why did you tell her over him?” Because Pepper is understanding, she shouldn’t be, but she is. Was that taking advantage of the situation? She said she just wanted to help, and he is nothing but a homewrecker.

It was a spur of the moment thing. Stephen cannot look back on that and not cringe as a blackhole threatens to implode him. He’ll blame it on hormones and never speak it of again.  _ Ever.  _ It’s still weird to him - to discuss how he got with Tony twice and managed a kid by him,  _ twice.  _ Except he can defend that the first time was unexpected yet protected while the second time was a heat in the moment. 

_ Embarrassing.  _

Stephen pulls the pillow over his head, holding back an audible groan at the memory. If only he had said no, or did something to prevent it then when he came back there would be no problems in avoiding all these awkwardness and chiding.

If only he had told his heart no.

And now the regret is flooding through him in waves. It’s so strong that he wants to take the Time Stone and actually go back and stop things. It’s so strong that it almost scares him - the voice urging him to go back and fix things. Now.

He could. The Eye is over on a pedestal in the corner of his room, hidden from the plain sight but he could clearly see it. He could just call it forth...

But it wouldn’t be right. This kid wouldn’t have a chance to live. It’s not their fault Stephen fucked up. What kind of parent would he be to keep one child and get rid of the other? He would never get rid of Eddie - never planned to even in the beginning. The kid was already slightly moving and had its own heartbeat. 

But it was ultimately his choice. 

One that could change everything.

He throws the covers off his being, moving to sit up and take a shaky inhale. A million thoughts are swirling in his head, all taunting or just egging him on. 

_ You’re really doing this? _

_ Just get it over with. Save your breath and honor. _

_ Who are you to decide who lives and dies? Are you god? _

_ We already did that when Tony was the one who had to die.  _

And he’s never thought about it until now - an option. But it’s up to Stephen and his future. Nothing else. 

*

At the end, he ultimately chooses a better middle. At least for what he decides.

He knows he’s disappointed Christine once more. 

Last time, no one knew that he had Eddie except Christine and Wong. Now, there are more people surrounding him, but it would be better just to not have the attention on him at all. 

As he stands behind the oblivious Pepper in a trance, his hands work the intricate details of the spell, erasing the whole encounter they had from their mind and anything else that might link him to her. While it wasn’t erasing per se, more of replacing the memory with someone else. Guilt is weaving at his every fiber but he can’t back down now.

He could feel Wong and Christine both deepen their pity and disappointment in him. 

He trespassed in their house, and is nonconsensually altering someone else’s memory. He didn’t study magic for this - Pepper didn’t deserve this. It was better than ultimately using the time stone...right? It would be the same even if he did use it - but without some weird butterfly effect. 

And unfortunately, he has to focus harder than usual due to his current pregnancy brain going off in several different angles. He didn’t want to screw her head off.

And he would have to also modify some things that could also bring back the memory such as her phone, but he would have to be careful as the house wasn’t without its guard by none other than the A.I Friday - which is why Stephen came concealed. There would be no evidence. 

Pepper suddenly hisses and clenches the knife in her hand from where she had been making sandwiches, and Stephen nearly curses from the shock. 

“Sorry,” He whispers, because of course he had to let his mind wander. That was going to be a nasty headache later. Hopefully she’ll forgive him for it - he doubts it. It seems like he’s only digging himself deeper into the hole. But it’s the right choice, maybe in his mind. 

Taking a deep breath, Stephen recalls the tendrils of the spell back into his palms as he finalizes the last of the incantation to finalize the fake memories. One in place of what actually happened but not too different as to conflict with other versions.

It would be fine, he has to reassure himself. And yet, he doesn’t feel fine or any of his regret ebbing away from his consciousness. 

As Pepper comes back to, she seems to look around in confusion before eventually settling back into making sandwiches but with a confused look on her face. Nothing happened out of the ordinary. 

Stephen backs away from Pepper, and with that, heads for the front door past the very couch he sat on. No one would have to know. 

_ “...you think you know what’s right and you try to fix things but only screw it up more. It’s getting old.” _

No one needs to know.

_ “The others are healing, but the only person who isn’t yet is you.” _

He can’t let others know.

_ “Just wanted to make sure.”  _

It has to be a secret. 

Letting go and moving on is such a hard thing. Stephen finds it hard to move on. He couldn’t let himself wallow in pity - everyone is expecting better of him. His children are expecting better of him. 

Everything is moving against him, but his hands were tied. This was the only way. It had to be.   
  


Right? 


	7. Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come back around, don't they? We get a glimpse into the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, I don't have any notes for today really. Thank you for the kudos and comments! I love all my readers and those sneaky peeps too! I'm gonna say updates are going to be sporadic because I am in college and have two other stories I'm updating as well, soon to be I hope five. But I will never forget this one - the baby I'm most devoted to. Anyways, uh yeah! That's that. We get a blast into the past. 
> 
> Also, apparently the whole movie of Infinity War happened within the span of two days but for the purpose of the story let's just say one day. So, that's the housekeeping. I'm going back into the previous chapters to make things consistent but uh, I'm a human who makes many mistakes so please mind them. Enjoy! Love you guys!

_April 26, 2018_

Stephen emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet, gripping the edges like his life depended on it. They ached from the stinging cold and pressure, but he couldn’t pry his attention away from his sore stomach. 

Five days. It’s been five days since this whole schtick started and Stephen had hoped it was just a stomach bug, but even so, he’s been through it before and had a good idea of what it was. Lining out with his activities from near two months earlier left no room for guessing. 

God, no.

There’s a small squeal coming from within his room, pulling Stephen’s mind out of the nauseous light headed haze. Coughing up the last of the bile, he flushes the toilet and stands to full height, hissing at the pain in his lower back and knees. From crouching over more times than he can count that past week, it was starting to take its toll and he was way too old for this shit.

After brushing his teeth and getting the horrible taste out of his mouth, Stephen exits the bathroom, stifling a yawn despite his aching jaw. While he would have no trouble getting up earlier, his current passenger made sure that he’d come to despise it with his new wake up call. Joy. And it was only six near seven in the morning. 

The first rays of sunlight stream into the room, casting an early light to easily make out everything in his way. On the bed amidst the tossed covers, Stephen can see his son moving about with energy only children could muster. Eddie’s light brown wispy curls are prominent against the white bed sheets, something Stephen knows will eventually turn darker with time. His hair did as a baby, or at least his mom said. Thinking about it, Stephen didn’t have many memories of his parents. But, they were just so soft and Stephen loved running his hand over them. 

“Hope you didn’t have too much fun in here without me,” Stephen jokes, stifling another yawn and watching as the infant got more excited with the sound of his voice. Eddie had woken up sometime around six. Stephen had retrieved him and placed him in the bed in hopes of catching a bit more shut eye. But not with an almost one year old - near impossible. 

“Dada!” Eddie happily says, managing to roll onto his stomach and crawl over the sheets towards Stephen. 

The sorcerer sits back down on the bed, watching Eddie maneuver around on the bed for another minute or so before he manages to crawl in Stephen’s lap. It takes him a while, but when he does, Eddie plops himself down in the middle and reaches for Stephen’s hands expectantly. 

While Stephen didn’t like to brag much (that is a lie), he definitely would brag that his son was smart at the ripe age of 11 months. Smart enough to figure out different things and their connections, easily and early. Such as Stephen could conjure magic with his hands and that was one of Eddie’s favorite things to play with. 

Stephen smiles down at the tiny hands patting his palms expectantly, as Eddie gives a small grunt and looks upwards to Stephen with his face scrunched up. It was so cute, the way the infant had basically mirrored Stephen’s own frown. “Da!” He calls, raising up Stephen’s fingers in his little chubby hands. 

“Alright, alright, Eddie bear.” Stephen relents and conjures a small, harmless geometric ball of light for Eddie to play with, to the infant’s delight.

Eddie grabs the ball with excited shrills, pulling on it and watching it expand and collapse between his hands. It’s purple and gold, changing colors every time Eddie hits it upon the bed. Stephen had no intention to hide magic from his son, and hoped that he’d take after Stephen one day and learn the Mystic Arts. It was nothing he’d force upon Eddie of course and would totally support his kid if he decided, hell, ballet. 

Deciding that it was better to get a headstart on the day already, Stephen scoops his hands under Eddie’s arms and settles the infant on his hip in order to stand and swiftly teleport them to the kitchen. It’s easy, and the infant doesn’t notice half the time. Stephen has to pat himself on the back for exposing him to it early. 

If Christine were to know he was teleporting around with a newborn, she would pull out her hair. 

He knew what he was doing! As he went along, but it still stood. 

The kitchen is already occupied by Wong, who is already fixing himself a bowl of cereal. “So he lives.”

“Just like the days before this one, much to your chagrin. By the way, you look horrible today, like always.” Stephen retorts, flicking his hand and magically pulling some items out of cupboards and the fridge. Usually, he didn’t use magic for such minor things that he could do in the span of four seconds, but his back hurt and he didn’t feel like putting up with walking too much. 

Wong huffs in response just as Stephen slips Eddie into a high chair, bringing over levitating small foods such as a bowl of cheerios and a granola bar, along with a bottle of warmed milk for the baby. He knows Wong is doing that silent judging thing with one of his hard stares, (when is he not), and usually Stephen didn’t say anything about it but just felt agitated already. 

“What?”

“Nothing.” Wong says, walking over to the high chair in order to ruffle Eddie’s curls. The infant absentmindedly shakes his head to get Wong’s hand off, still fascinated with the works of the magic ball when he substitutes that attention for the bottle, taking it eagerly. And because all babies have a love for throwing things to the ground, Stephen makes sure all his magic balls have the ability to float in air right where it’s left if so. “I did not say anything.” 

“You were thinking it.” Stephen counters, grabbing the granola bar as well as setting the bowl on the high chair tray, grabbing his own chair to sit right next to Eddie. “So what is it? What did I do wrong now?”

Wong rolls his eyes, sitting at the table but close enough to Stephen. “Nothing. Go back to bed and wake up on the other side. Obviously, something must’ve happened in the process this morning.”

“Say what you wanna say.”

“I don’t want to say anything.” 

Stephen turns to Eddie, whispering as if it were a secret but making sure Wong could hear. “Pretty sure he wants to say something, buddy. Think Uncle Wong will comment on my appearance, my actions, or something I might’ve done he pretends he doesn’t know about yet?” Eddie leans into Stephen’s hand on his hair, blue eyes gleaming up at the sorcerer. Of course the baby wouldn’t answer Stephen, but his eyes do dart over to Wong, feet excitedly swinging. 

Wong only hums. “Too bad the child has you for a father. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle two snarky know-it-all’s in the Sanctum.”

“Are you criticizing my parenting skills? Or my personality?” 

Wong stares Stephen dead in the eyes. “Yes.”

Stephen doesn’t take it all too personally because he and Wong joke like that all the time, except he does. He doesn’t show it by rolling his eyes and turning his back to the other, taking a piece off of the bar. “Okay, then you try and raise a kid alone.” 

“No, I would not do that.”

“Exactly. I bet you couldn’t even if you were paid.” 

“I am always here to help you, but you know you don’t technically have to raise him alone.”

Stephen pops the granola piece into his mouth, chewing and pointing the bar at Wong accusingly. “If you say that name, I’ll curse you.”

Wong gives an unimpressed stare, just as Eddie begins giving tiny coughs, dropping the bottle and making a disgruntled face. Stephen moves his hand behind his back, patting with not too much force but enough to clear the baby’s tiny chest. “Stop drinking so fast, it’s not going anywhere.”

“He won’t understand you,” Wong says as if that part were obvious.

“He does.” Stephen answers back with certainty, not taking his eyes off his mini self.

Eddie discards the bottle onto the tray, reaching for the bowl of cheerios instead. His chubby hands grab onto the edge and tilt it over, spilling it all over the tray. Satisfied, he lets it go and grabs a fistful, shoving it into his mouth and looking up at Stephen with a smile. It brings a snort out of the sorcerer which in turn causes the infant to squeal in laughter. It even puts a smile on Wong’s face.

“I would if I had to.” Wong says after a while, and Stephen has taken another bite of the bar. He raises an eyebrow at the statement, which Wong sighs and continues. “Had to take care of Eddie for you. He is an exception. Normally, no child should be even staying within the walls of the Sanctum amongst sacred artifacts that hold value beyond this realm. But he...I would take care of him if I needed to.”

Wong wasn’t as hands on as Stephen was. He didn’t need to. Wong was only there as the Uncle, not co-parent. He still had to work. But never longer than Stephen wanted to burden the man with. Sure, Wong would hold Eddie for a while but it was all on Stephen. All his responsibility. All his fault. 

“Well, I’m sure your parenting skills are worse than mine.” Stephen jokes, looking up at Wong and laughing at the other man’s expression. “But anyways, you’re stuck with me today. Eddie is going with Christine for the day and I need to work so she volunteered for the day.” Wong hums at that, not answering the man as Stephen looks back down at his son.

Maybe it was instinct, but everytime he relinquished his child to Christine or even Wong for an hour, it felt as if a part of his soul was leaving as well. He didn’t like the feeling, but maybe all parents were like that. It wasn’t that serious, but it hurt. 

He wasn’t that protective over his kid, letting Eddie crawl around supervised, discovering his surroundings. Stephen wanted to watch him grow and wanted to know what kind of person he would be. Would he pursue the medical field like Stephen did or maybe pick up the Mystic Arts? 

And Stephen all the sudden doesn’t feel hungry anymore, looking down at the rest of the bar in his hand. It’s crumbly now, falling apart quickly as if it were never a bar in the first place. He doesn’t like it. He felt...he felt sick. 

However, Stephen wills himself to keep down at least something. 

He wanted to enjoy the little moments in life right now. Like how every morning he banters with Wong and sits right beside his energetic almost one year old. 

Wow, it’s been near one year since he had a whole ass kid. Pushed his kid out himself. With Christine present, but there was no greater feeling than holding your newborn after months of pain. Despite them being covered in weird goop, (yes, he knows it’s amniotic fluid), just knowing they were in your arms.

There was no greater sadness then realizing that you have to keep your son from his other father. 

Should he tell him? Maybe...maybe sometime later. 

_One Day Later_

Things can change within the blink of an eye. It seemed like just that happened. He remembers being in the Sanctum with Eddie and Wong as if they had all the time in the world. They didn’t. 

Dr. Banner crashing into the Sanctum, facing Tony Stark once more, fighting on Earth and then once more on Titan. Giving up the one thing he swore to protect that was a fragment of the entire universe. All for Tony’s life. 

It felt like a blur, the past day’s events. What he wouldn’t give to reverse events just to hold his kid once more. 

He knew what was going to happen. And he felt the moment the snap happened like a chill going through the air, his magic going haywire.

“Something’s happening!” Mantis exclaims, and Stephen looks up, feeling the dread fill him like a clogged drain. 

He knew it was coming. He knew it would happen. He _knows_ what’s going to happen. Except he wishes he didn’t. Nothing could prepare someone for knowing about their death - the death of billions across the universe. 

And the death of himself and his baby. No doubt they didn’t survive all he’s been through anyway. His baby boy or girl. 

No, his and Stark’s baby. The second one he’d never know about. 

Stephen has seen over 14 million futures. He spent a long time within all the lifetimes, feeling it creep up in his mind like a bad feeling witnessing all those deaths over and over, again and again in different ways. Just like Dormammu. 

His vision blurs, but Stephen blinks away the tears, watching as one by one the Guardians dusted, and he himself felt the rippling feeling violently grab a hold of his soul. It’s shocking at first, causing him to grip at the rubble around him to study himself. Before he knows it, Stephen is speaking. 

“Tony.”

And the mentioned man turns to him, his face a shadow of horror and pleading. Paralyzing realization. There were so many things to say to him in the span of seconds. So many things Stephen wanted to say, wanted to tell him that he should’ve earlier. So many things he wished he could do. Hug Eddie one more time, kiss his little curls and see his cheeky smile. He knew Eddie was going to be okay, the snap wouldn’t affect him.

Five. 

Tony would be fine. He would be fine.

Four. 

Get to know your son. Did Tony even want kids?

Three. 

It wasn’t meant for this.

Two.

I’m sorry.

“There was no other way.”

And it begins as a tingling in one side, strengthening and then feeling it ripple throughout his arm and spread upward. Stephen can’t keep looking Tony in the eyes, watching the emotion flash across his eyes. He was sorry. 

But Stephen was most of all sorry to his family. His son, and the child he’d never know.

He releases his final breath, thinking of Eddie as the darkness overtook him.

  
  


_Five Years Later_

Stephen didn’t know the exact moment that he had been snapped back. He just remembers waking up on the rubble of the battlefield, Titan. The Soul Stone and Titan looked similar so he was a bit confused at first opening his eyes. The orange sky was still the same, but there was a stark difference. The sorcerer struggles to push up into a sitting position, looking up into the sky. 

It takes a while to get his bearings back, looking around and then down at his scarred hands.

So it happened. Dr. Banner returned half of the universe back. 

He gives a small huff of disbelief even with a smile, turning at the sound of exclamation. 

“Oh my fucking god!” Quill says, near falling from being snapped back just as Drax is back as well, looking down at his body and patting his chest with one arm. “What just happened?” Quill looks around, spotting Drax and pointing to his returning arm. 

Mantis is next, giving a gasp and feeling her head. The guardians all look at each other, realizing that indeed they were still alive and well and begin hugging each other. The feeling of being ripped apart was no joke.

Stephen forces himself to stand on shaky legs, being assisted by the cloak. The sorcerer nuzzles his cheek into his trusted friend, as the Cloak wraps itself around his body before picking him up above the rubble. Peter is brought back last, laid out on a slab of debris as Stephen floats over to the group. 

“Hey, Peter.” He says, reaching down to the spider mutant and shaking him. “You gotta get up, we need to hurry.” Peter jolts awake, looking at Stephen with complete panic as he quickly moves to stand and look around.   
  


“Where’s-?! Mr. Stark?! Where is-”

“We’ll get to them. We’ll need to leave soon.” Stephen says, just as the others gather near him. “The battle isn’t over yet.”

“What do you mean? What do we-”

Stephen hisses as a violent cramp rips through him, clutching his stomach and near buckling to his knees. Both Quill and Mantis rush to his side to keep him from falling to his knees, with questions coming from every angle asking if he were okay. 

He doesn’t know what that was, but his mind is telling him that of course he knows. It’s the price of his actions, and his overused energy catching up to him. But Stephen was sure he was miscarrying, muscles tensing and eyes squeezing closed by the succession of cramps rolling through him. It doesn’t subside until a few seconds later, leaving him feeling weak and his hands alight on secondary pain fire. 

“Uh, you okay, man?” Quill asks, as Stephen has to fight down tears. 

“Yeah, I-” Stephen stumbles down a bit more, causing their hold to tighten on him a bit more. “I just got hit a little bit harder than I thought.” He lies, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to stand up straight. Once Mantis and Quill are sure that he’s okay, they eventually let go. There were bigger problems to tend to now.

Quill clears his throat, as Mantis walks over to his side. “So...I’m just gonna take a wild guess and say this was a part of the plan.”

“Plan,” Drax begins, confusion written all over his face. “There was a plan?”

“How long were we out for?” 

“But what was the plan-”

“Maybe we should regroup-”

Peter steps closer to Stephen, eyes lost and fearful. “Mr. Dr. Strange, sir, do you- do you know if Tony is okay? He didn’t snap back with us. He wasn’t...he wasn’t one of us, was he?” 

Stephen is silent, just as the others look towards him awaiting his answer. But there was no more time to waste, no time to mourn, no time to goof off. He inhales sharply through his nose, feeling the magic surge through his body despite the protests of his heart. “Everyone, gear up.”

“But what is the plan?!” Drax asks, as if it were a life threatening question. 

Stephen only puts a sad smile on his face, feeling the sparks gather at his fingertips as he opens a portal back to Earth, where he would gather the rest. 

“The plan is to win.”

  
  


And they won. But at what cost? 

The whole battle was a blur. Opening so many portals alongside the other sorcerers, and seeing Wong again. Fighting against thousands of aliens. Seeing _Tony_ again. 

And yet Stephen knew. 

He remembers nothing but a blur, holding back the lake, speaking to Tony. 

Telling him that this was the one. 

And all throughout, he didn’t remember when the cramps had stopped. It had just been pushed back as a back burner thought in the sea of swirling thoughts. 

And then Tony snapped. 

A bright, blinding light that had spread across the battlefield had pulled back to reveal the dusting of Thanos and his army. They won. 

Stephen was weak. He was injured, he was exhausted. Each breath he took felt like a struggle. 

And so, when they’re all surrounding him, _Tony,_ in his very last seconds of life. It feels like Stephen is dying with him. This was the timeline where they win. Billions are saved. 

“Mr. Stark, Tony, _please-”_

Stephen hates to hear the child beg. Just earlier he wanted to see his mentor, to know he was okay, and to lose him just when he had him once again. He hated it. He didn’t want to lose Tony. No one did. 

And Peter is being pulled back even when he’s sobbing, as Pepper slowly kneels down before her fiancé. Wong had placed a hand on Stephen’s shoulder, squeezing slightly but the feeling is numb to him - alien. 

Stephen couldn't do it.

He couldn't let Tony die. His heart wouldn't allow him to. Watching the man's life drain from his face as his son figure sobs and wife kneels right in front of him, Stephen's own heart cries out. This was how it was supposed to be, and yet, his body is moving before he realizes it.

He wills the Time Stone to levitate from the gauntlet and over his scarred hands. It’s glowing bright green, pulsing and enticing. The stone passing Pepper gets all of their attention to him, but he has to focus.

“Stephen, what are you-” Wong hisses right behind him.

Focusing his broken hearted spirits to muster every bit of energy left in him, Stephen activates the Stone to save Tony's life.

He rewinds the time on the man’s soul, using a transfer spell at the same time to give his own energy and life source to Tony. It hurts. Vishanti, does it hurt to have to push your body beyond its limits. But it’s worth it. 

Tony takes a sharp inhale of breath. 

And Stephen falls to his knees, blacking out. 

He doesn’t remember the flurry afterwards. Or maybe he does, but refuses to remember it. 

It was blurry. 

He remembers coming to when with Wong administering his own energy healing spell to him, on the ground of the ruined Compound. Oh gods, what had he done?

“Stephen!” Wong cries out, reaching down to hug the man tightly. “You idiot.” He whispers, tightening his hold before releasing him. “How are you feeling?”

Stephen didn’t answer, looking over to where Stark once laid. But he wasn’t there. In fact, most of the heroes who once stood around weren’t there anymore. Wong must sense his confusion because he looks as well, sighing. “I opened a portal to the nearest hospital for Stark. It was the only option. Several others went as well, and I would’ve taken you but I know you wouldn’t have wanted to go regardless.”

“The stone. Where is-” Stephen coughs, feeling a weaker cramp hit him yet still relentless. Wong moves him into a sitting position, before levitating the time stone over into his palm. 

“Here, Stephen. It belongs back in it’s original timeline, but if you use this on the gauntlet that the original Thanos used, we can bring back our Stones.” 

Stephen takes the Stone with shaky hands, placing it into the Eye for safekeeping just until then, before looking up at Wong with teary eyes. His friend must’ve known, read his mind without having to do it, reaching down to hug him once more. 

“You idiot.” Wong whispers once more. 

“I missed you too.” Stephen replies back, without a hint of joking.

And Stephen doesn’t want to go get checked out in a hospital. There’s no need. He’ll heal, but he just wanted to see one person. No, he _needed_ to see one person.

Wong does indeed open a portal back to the Sanctum, with Stephen taking in its familiarity like an old friend. He looks around, noticing nothing different beside the different toys scattered across the floor in the study room. 

“Eddie, could you come down, please?” Wong calls out, as Stephen slides his arm off of the other’s shoulders, ignoring his pointed concerned looks. 

Stephen steps forward until he reaches the railings, sighing and resting his aching hands on his side. “Wong, I think I’ll just go lay do-”

“Uncle Wong?” 

Both men look up at the top of the stairwell, where the young child is standing, clutching the stair beam. Stephen feels his heart catch in his throat as he takes in the sight of the child, _his son._ No longer a baby, but a kid. 

His hair had surely darkened, light brown into dark chocolate curls framing his still blue eyes. Sure enough, the child kept his chubby cheeks from when he was a baby, but seeing him this big when just two days ago for Stephen he was in _diapers._

Eddie is eyeing Stephen wearily, as Wong clears his throat. “This is the man I have shown you constantly. Stephen Strange, your father.” The boy seems to hide more behind the bannister, looking from both Stephen to Wong. 

The sorcerer didn’t know what to feel. Hurt that his son didn’t recognize him, which was understandable because it’s been _five_ years, or in awe at seeing his baby again, alive and well. 

Stephen looks down at his trembling hands, forming a small geometric ball, purple and gold, before sending it up to the timid boy. And Eddie does stare at it for a while, taking it into his own hands and experimenting with it. Pulling it open and then closed, hitting it on his palm to watch it change colors. 

Eddie giggles, before looking down at Stephen. “Daddy, you came back.”

Stephen feels the tears return to his eyes, a smile forming on his face as Eddie hops down the stairs to jump into his arms. It probably was dangerous, but neither of them cared at the moment. Stephen holds his son close to him, trembling and freely crying now, sinking down to the bottom of the stairs. 

It was all for Eddie. All for him. 

Even as his little hands clutch at Stephen’s battle tattered clothes, mindful of the Cloak, Stephen can’t help but feel all of the pain fade away alongside the rest of the world.

There was no one else he’d do this for. 

Only for his son. 

  
Only him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked the first chapter - there will be more. Tags will also be added throughout the story as I spontaneously remember them so. Ha!


End file.
